Before Nikki could reply, Tori walked into the kitchen. “Good morning,” she yawned. “Sorry about the way I look.”
“You look lovely,” Nikki replied. She admired the gray and white dress Tori was wearing and grinned when she saw sneakers on her feet. “Very stylish.”
Tori looked down at her feet. “Old habits,” she blushed. “I assumed we were going to be doing a lot of walking today.”
“We might,” Nikki assured her. “Are you hungry?”
“I'll get some cereal.”
Tori poured herself a bowl of corn flakes and sat down next to Hawk. He knew that Nikki's love and care were helping Tori develop into the young woman she was meant to be. “Still mad at me?”
“No.” Tori smiled at Hawk. “I've had time to think, and you were right, Hawk. We can't walk into a fight when we're outnumbered.”
“Listen, guys,” Nikki interrupted and quickly finished her coffee. “I have a theory—and it's just a theory for now—but it might bear some weight, I don't know.”
“Spill the beans,” Hawk told her.
Nikki drew in a deep breath. “Fort Knox,” she said in a quick voice and waited for Hawk and Tori to laugh at her. When she saw them lean forward in their chairs with intent eyes instead, she carefully continued. “Back in Atlanta, I knew a reporter who was into all kinds of conspiracy theories. Some of the theories were half-baked, yet other theories actually had merit. Anyway, as I was lying in bed this morning, out of the blue, the words Fort Knox came into my mind. Maybe I had been thinking about Fort Knox subconsciously—I don't really know how that idea came into my mind—and I remembered having a conversation with that reporter from Atlanta about Fort Knox one day during my lunch hour.”
Tori's eyes grew large. “Nikki,” she said, “where's your phone?”
Nikki stood up, walked to the kitchen counter, and picked up her phone from beside the coffee pot. “Here, honey. What's on your mind?”
“The photo,” Tori blurted, “the photo of the license plate on the black car—a sedan, right?”
“Right,” Nikki said and looked at Hawk. Hawk waited. Together they watched Tori go through the photos on the phone.
“Here,” Tori exclaimed, “and look at the license plate number...6-18-20-6-14-24…FRT-KX.”
“My goodness,” Nikki gasped and took her phone from Tori. “Hawk, look! Tori is absolutely right.”
“That's why you remembered,” Tori beamed. “The sequence of those numbers grabbed my attention when I saw the photo, but I couldn't understand why. I kept running the letters associated with the numbers over in my mind. Now it all makes perfect sense.”
Hawk took Nikki's phone and studied the license plate in the photo. “Government tag with the numbers 6-18-20-6-14-24. Lot of numbers for a government car, unless—”
“Unless it wasn't a real government plate,” Nikki exclaimed. “Tori, you're a genius.”
“I thank you.” She smiled and blushed.
“So, what about this Fort Knox theory you and your friend talked about?” Hawk asked, eagerly handing Nikki back her phone.
Nikki struggled to settle her excited mind. “Mitch—that was my friend’s name—claimed that the real Fort Knox was empty. He claimed that America was broke, and that's why the American government was going after Libya, to steal the gold in that country—real off-the-wall stuff, or so it seemed at the time. Anyway, Mitch claimed that the gold America took from Libya would be stored in Vermont. He never said what town, though.” Nikki looked at Hawk and Tori. “According to Mitch, not only was the government in Libya housing more gold than we can imagine, but Libya was hiding wealthy gold mines from the United Nations.”
Hawk leaned back in his chair. “Nikki, last year NATO imposed a no-fly zone over Libya and began bombing operations. I could never make any sense of why NATO was bombing Libya. Sure, the country isn't the top tourist spot in the world, but there are worse countries to worry about.”
“If America was after the gold in Libya, how long would it take to transfer that gold here?” Tori asked.
“Not overnight, that's for sure,” Hawk told Tori and rubbed his chin. “So, this Mitch said the new Fort Knox would be in Vermont?”
“Yeah,” Nikki said, trying to control her nerves. “Hawk, my goodness, this is major and—”
“And what?” Hawk asked, alarmed.
“When were the Twenty-Four Thieves arrested?”
“Last year,” Hawk said and then understood. “Around the time America began bombing Libya.” Hawk stood up and paced. “Somehow Ringston found out about the gold; that has to be it.”
Hearing someone knock on the back door, Nikki glanced at Hawk. Hawk placed his hand on the gun resting in a holster clipped to his belt. “Who is it?” he asked.
“Lidia and Herbert,” Lidia called out. “Hurry, it's flooding out here.”
Nikki ran to the back door and opened it. She pulled Lidia and Herbert inside. Herbert shook rain off his green rain jacket. Lidia closed her blue umbrella and placed it down into a wooden umbrella holder sitting beside the back door. “The campground is deserted. Everyone has left,” Lidia told Nikki. Nikki watched Lidia take off her blue rain jacket and hang it up on the wooden coat rack next to the umbrella holder. “Herbert and I decided it was better if we stay with you a while. We have our luggage out in the car.”
“Of course, my home is your home,” Nikki said in a sincere voice. She hugged Lidia and Herbert and offered them coffee.
“May I take a shower first?” Herbert asked. “My head is aching, and I feel dirty. I haven't had the opportunity to shower, and both Lidia and I have had very little sleep.”
Nikki studied Lidia's tired face and noticed her friend was still wearing the same clothes she had worn the day before. “Please, go rest,” she begged.
Lidia patted Herbert on the arm. “Herbert, go shower. I'll bring in our luggage.”
“I'll do that,” Hawk told Lidia and hurried outside into the rain before Lidia could object.
“Good man,” Herbert told Nikki and wandered away toward the bathroom.
Nikki quickly grabbed Lidia's hand and sat her down at the kitchen table next to Tori. “Fort Knox,” she told Lidia in an excited voice. “Lidia, this entire mess involves gold—billions of billions of dollars’ worth of gold.”
Nikki explained the new theory to Lidia, who then listened to Tori speak about the license plate number she had decoded. “My goodness,” Lidia whispered. “This is all so...disturbing.”
“This means,” Nikki assured her friends, “that anyone who interferes will be eliminated without question. We're on shaky ground. No wonder Eric said we were in shark-infested waters.”
And just then, Nikki's cell phone rang. Nikki checked the incoming caller. Her eyes grew wide. “It's Eric!” she said, shocked.
“Answer the call,” Tori begged.
Nikki pressed the accept button. “Hello?”
“How did you like your cheeseburger meal?” Eric asked Nikki in a pleasant voice.
“Best cheeseburger I ever ate,” Nikki confirmed. “I was just thinking about you, Eric.”
“I was wondering why my ears were burning. Doesn’t that mean somebody is talking about you?”
“I'm not sure.” Nikki smiled. “Perhaps if I give your restaurant a good review you might help me?”
“Perhaps,” Eric replied, “you might treat me for dinner tonight? I'm in your vicinity. I decided I should take my granddaughter to see an old friend upstate.”
“I'll even cover the tip,” Nikki promised Eric.
“No tip—private dinner,” Eric cautioned Nikki.
“Of course,” Nikki confirmed. “Where do I meet you?”
“I'll be in your area in about thirty minutes.”
“Great,” Nikki told Eric. “The town is under lockdown, so you will have to go through a roadblock to get into the county. When you pass the roadblock, call me. I will meet you downtown at my store.”
“Will do,” Er
ic replied and ended the call.
Hawk burst through the back door, carrying two brown suitcases. “Here you go,” he told Lidia, soaking wet. “I'll take them to the guest room.”
As Hawk closed the kitchen door with the back of his right foot, a hard hand shoved it open. Lionel Perkins stepped into the doorway with a Glock 17 in his wet hands.
8
Lionel Perkins stepped into the kitchen wearing a black suit and black loafers. Kicking the back door shut, he studied Hawk. “Listen, mate” he said in a thick British accent, “take your gun and put it down on the floor.”
“You shot an innocent woman, you piece of filth,” Hawk snarled at Lionel.
“I had no other choice,” Lionel told Hawk in a calm voice. “I had to bring Ringston to your quaint little town. My desire was complete annihilation of that nasty man. You see, I went against orders. Because of my...disobedience, Ringston was forced to come and take care of me, only the nasty little man left town before I could kill him.”
“So you didn't shoot Lucy to leave me a message?” Nikki asked.
Lionel gave Nikki a steady look. “I wasn't even aware of your reputation until recently. I wasn't even supposed to come to this town. Ringston made this town a no-go, and that is why I chose to have my driver, at gunpoint, of course, bring me here.”
“I think I'm beginning to understand,” Nikki said. “When Ringston found out I wasn't in town, he rushed back down to Fall Cliff to ensure I wasn't posing any clear and present threats to his operation by snooping around.”
“You're going back to prison,” Hawk promised Lionel.
“I don't think so, mate,” Lionel replied, narrowing his eyes at him. “I have what I need to walk over the border into the vastness of Canada. But before I take my holiday, I knew I needed to pay Ms. Bates a visit. It seems like you're the woman who can get the truth out.”
“What truth?” Nikki asked, playing dumb.
Lionel shook his head. “Don't insult me, Ms. Bates,” he said in a deadly voice as rain dripped from his hair. “I've been listening to every word you and your group of detective friends have been saying to one another. You know about Fort Knox.”
“So we do,” Nikki stated calmly. “Chance, blind assumption, problem-solving skills, process of elimination—many elements in the story. We seem to be missing a date.”
Hawk looked at Lionel with angry eyes. There was no way he would let the scumbag get away and cross over into Canada. “Tell us what you know, Perkins,” he ordered in a tough voice.
Perkins aimed the Glock at Hawk's chest. “Don't push me, mate,” he warned Hawk. “I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Are we clear?”
“Pull the trigger,” Hawk growled at Lionel. “I'm not scared of cowards.”
“Wait,” Nikki begged, terrified. It was clear from the look in Lionel's deadly eyes he would kill Hawk. “Mr. Perkins, please, you came here with a purpose. Please tell us what you want us to do.”
“Sit down, mate,” Lionel ordered Hawk, “but first, your gun.”
“Put your gun on the floor, Hawk,” Nikki begged.
Hawk locked eyes with Lionel. Reluctantly, he placed his hand on his gun and withdrew it from his holster. “Okay, okay,” he told Lionel, bending down to the floor.
“Nice and slow, there you go,” Lionel warned.
“Nikki, where are your towels?” Herbert asked, walking into the kitchen.
Hawk watched Lionel take his eyes off him and quickly focus on Herbert. Wasting no time and acting out of sheer survival instinct, Hawk drew his gun upward and prepared to fire. Lionel saw Hawk go into an offensive position from the corner of his left eye. Before he could get off a round, Hawk fired.
Lionel felt a bullet bite into his right hand. “Don't move!” Hawk yelled, watching Lionel drop the Glock and grab his wounded right hand.
“I can find the towels on my own,” Herbert said in a shaky voice and hurried away.
Nikki ran across the kitchen and picked up the pistol Lionel had been holding. Lidia raced to the kitchen counter and grabbed a dish towel. She eased over to Lionel and tossed it at him. “Wrap your hand,” she told him.
Lionel wrapped his wounded hand. “You’re fast, mate,” he told Hawk, gritting his teeth in pain.
“Sit down,” Hawk ordered Lionel.
Lionel walked to the kitchen table. Tori stood up. “I don't bite, beautiful,” Lionel promised Tori, trying to sound tough.
“You're a disease,” Tori nearly spat at him.
“Why?” Lionel barked back. “Because I don't conform to your system of fake justice? I steal from the rich, but I'm not Robin Hood. I steal from corrupt men who steal from the poor. I take what is rightfully mine. How much of my own money is stolen by the IRS? How much of my money is sent to countries that fund terrorism? How much of my money is spent buying jet fuel so our greedy senators can fly to their private golf courses and plan more ways to steal and oppress the little man? I'm a disease? Girly, you better wise up and realize who the real diseases are!”
“Nice speech,” Tori replied in a bitter voice, “but you failed to mention one thing. I'm aware of the corruption in the country I call home, but I remain honest. Because if I become dishonest, I'm no better than the criminals that Detective Daily risks his life to put behind bars. Real men, like Detective Daily, fight corruption the honest way. You steal for selfish reasons. Detective Daily defends the little man as a hero. You are a disease, and men like Detective Hawk Daily are the cure.”
Tori's words slapped Lionel across the face. He fought back but knew any words he spoke to Tori would be defeated by words of truth spoken from her mouth. “Tell us why you came here,” Nikki told Lionel. “Obviously, you want to take down Agent Ringston. Let us do that for you.”
Lionel looked into Nikki's face, and then into Lidia's, and finally into Hawk's face. “You need a date,” he said in a serious voice. “You've figured out Fort Knox, and you have the location but not the date.”
“The location is Fall Cliff,” Nikki said.
Lionel nodded. “Underneath the city hall is an underground bunker designed to store the gold. This bunker is impenetrable. As clever as I am, I could never create a plan to outwit the bunker's design or security system.”
“What's the date?” Hawk demanded.
Lionel shook his head. “Not so fast, mate,” he said, wrapping the dish towel tighter around his right hand. “First there are certain facts you need to know. You're aware that Ringston and Wayberry sprang the Twenty-Four Thieves, yes?”
“Yeah, we're aware,” Hawk said.
Nikki folded her arms. “Some of the thieves are disguised as FBI Agents, as you are,” she told Lionel.
“Give the lady a biscuit,” Lionel announced.
“But why make it public?” Nikki asked, confused. “Why draw all this attention when everything could have been done in secrecy? I'm sure Warden Wayberry and Agent Ringston could have carefully withdrawn each thief from the prison without any public fanfare.”
“They could have, but remember, they were dealing with thieves,” Lionel reminded Nikki. “Now all twenty-four of us have our faces posted on every TV, magazine and newspaper across the globe.”
“I see,” Nikki said. “Warden Wayberry and Agent Ringston had to put leashes around your necks, is that it?”
“Yes,” Lionel agreed, “also forcing each thief to put the state of Vermont into an absolute panic while forcing the badges to chase their tails. No offense, cop, but you guys are stupid. You set up roadblocks and conduct press conferences and send out helicopters and let the hound-dogs loose. All the while, we're standing off in the distance laughing at your futile efforts. American leadership is a riot.”
“You're the one sitting here with a wounded hand,” Tori snapped at Lionel.
“And I could have crossed over into Canada with over seventy-five thousand dollars in my back pocket last night,” Lionel told Tori, withholding his temper from her. “Yesterday I walked down the main st
reet of your fair little town. Not one single person noticed me.”
“You were spotted out near a rental cabin,” Hawk pointed out. “Someone did notice you.”
“The old lady sitting out in her backyard painting...alas, the least likely are the obvious ones,” Lionel said in a dramatic voice. “I let her see me,” he finished, turning his voice serious again.
“Why?” Hawk demanded.
“To let you know I was still around,” Lionel explained. “Call it a desperate attempt to get Ms. Bates’ attention. Obviously, if this woman is worried about Ringston, then she is of precious use to me.”
“Okay, but why go out and make hot spots all over the state?” Nikki asked, confused. “If you're expecting a gold shipment to arrive, putting Vermont into a state of fright will certainly cancel...” Nikki paused. “Oh dear, that's what they want.”
Lionel drew in a deep, painful breath. “If the gold ever gets into the bunker, there is no way Ringston, Wayberry or Brown will ever get it back out. The U.S. Government is very particular about its money. Never take away money that can send a politician on a golfing vacation, don't you know.”
“How can the escaped convicts go around parading like FBI Agents with their faces all over the news?” Hawk cut in. “Come on, knock off the nonsense.”
“It's not nonsense,” Lionel barked at Hawk. “Every guy has a facial mask that was designed to change his appearance. We were fitted while sitting idle at North Hill. We also had our fingerprints burned off. But no man got a mask until he agreed to have a tracking chip implanted under his skin.”
“Why would you and the clowns you got shipped off to prison with agree to such a thing? You're all supposed to be brilliant, yet you've allowed yourselves to become slaves to a slave master,” Hawk commented.
Lionel grinned. “Are we slaves?” he asked. “Sometimes a thief can never be tracked. A thief always has a window to escape through, mate.”
Hawk frowned. The devious expression in Lionel's eyes revealed that the Twenty-Four Thieves had a plan of their own. “Your job was to kill Ringston. You failed. Then you decided to use the press, AKA Nikki Bates, to take down Ringston while you and your clown friends carried out your own plan. Does that about wrap it up?”
Maple Hills Mystery Box Set Page 12