What were they getting themselves into? We didn’t know much of anything about this Izzy guy, really. Why did he own so much property up here? Was he buying real estate as a way to funnel his drug money? Was he a drug dealer/entrepreneur? Omigod. Was that what my dad had done? Had he been buying real estate as a cover for his drug business? The thought of it made me crazy angry, and I kicked a rock in my path out of frustration, scaring a poor little ground squirrel, and in doing so, immediately felt ashamed.
The more I thought about it, the more I came to understand that my husband and my friend were risking their lives to find my dad. Why was I letting them do this? I was half tempted to call it off and go home to California. Did I really want to search for a person who obviously didn’t want to be found? A person that had lied to me for possibly my entire life? A giant hypocrite who pretended to follow the letter of the law, but in reality, was probably a low-life drug smuggler? I sighed in frustration, feeling utterly defeated. Sitting down on a rock outside the cabin, I stared out at the valley below, whispering up a little prayer of protection for the ones I loved.
Darcy and I ate a light lunch. I had very little appetite, and she had packed all of the ingredients for a detox smoothie to make up for the muffin and restaurant lunch she’d eaten yesterday.
“You’re killing me with these smoothies, Darcy. How often do you eat real food?” I couldn’t help but make a face at all of the kale, celery, and grassy looking ingredients she was putting in the blender. “My gosh, how can you swallow that stuff?” I gagged just looking at it.
“This is what I have to do to make it in this business,” she said with a serious face. Her behavior toward me had thawed a little bit after I came back from my adventure to see Caty, and she was no longer refusing to look at my face.
“I get it, but I think it’s really unfair. You do too, or at least that’s what you told me yesterday. You know your male counterparts aren’t eating that for lunch.”
“I know,” she sighed, “but until I find some other career, I’m stuck drinking smoothies and getting Botox.”
“Omigod, surely you really haven’t had Botox. What are you? Twenty-seven? You don’t have a single wrinkle on your body.”
“It’s never too early to start.” She sounded as if she was quoting somebody else, and probably was.
“Fritz left his laptop here,” she continued. “I pulled it out and booted it up. Can you believe that man doesn’t have password protection?”
I laughed. “That does surprise me, since he’s a PI. But frankly, I was shocked he has a laptop at all. I had always thought he’d be completely old school.” I walked around the table to where she’d placed it. “I feel kind of bad snooping around his stuff while he’s not here…”
“I don’t,” Darcy replied. “I’m going crazy sitting here, waiting for them to check in.” She poured her smoothie and began to drink. My eyes got bigger and bigger as she chugged that thing down. When she was all done, her body gave a giant shudder and she put her hand to her mouth. “One minute,” she whispered, finger over her lips. I could see her working to not gag it back up. “Okay,” she said, exhaling. “All better. Now, where were we?”
We huddled around Fritz’s screen. Darcy had pulled up several windows and began checking each one for updates. The microwave beeped as my leftovers finished heating, and I walked over to retrieve them.
Pulling my plate out, I nearly burned my hands. I set it down quickly and grabbed a fork while blowing on it to cool it down a bit. Darcy remained quiet and looked intently at something on the screen while chewing on her bottom lip.
“Holy…” she whispered. She glanced up at me quickly, then back down at the screen.
“What?” I asked. I opened a barbecue sauce packet and generously poured it over my pork.
“This is huge,” she muttered quietly, furiously sliding her finger down the touchpad to scroll through something.
“What? What is huge?” I finished doctoring my plate and carried it back to the table, setting it down. “What did you find?”
She pointed to the screen, seemingly at a loss for words. Finally, she spoke. “Fritz’s contact was able to get more of this stuff unredacted.” She hesitated before continuing. “It’s about your dad, Emily.”
“What about him?” I didn’t even know which window she was looking at, and I hurriedly scanned through what I saw in a futile attempt to understand.
“Your dad wasn’t just on an FBI watch list, Emily.” I looked at her in confusion as she pointed her finger to a paragraph in the still partially redacted document. My eyes followed, and what I saw shocked me. “Your dad was FBI.”
●CHAPTER 19●
THE DOCUMENT WAS STARING ME IN THE FACE, taunting me. Hundreds of pages of intel were at our fingertips, and this was my first actual glimpse at them. My dad hadn’t been a person of interest. He’d been an actual agent. Lisa and all of her crazy suppositions had been right. My dad had been a secret agent with the FBI.
We continued reading, sitting shoulder to shoulder, huddled over the screen. The room was eerily silent and my head began to pound. I had to remind myself to keep breathing. This wasn’t the end of the world. This was actually way better than him being a drug smuggler, right? Then why didn’t I feel any better?
God, had I put him in danger talking about him at the spa, right in front of the nail techs? They had been able to understand me. They’d keep quiet, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t have any reason to retain that information, right? A part of me started to panic, wondering if they were really foreign spies. Stop, Emily! Two college-aged nail techs in a spa in the middle of the mountains aren’t spies! Still, I couldn’t stop my brain from coming up with endless what-ifs.
“Holy shit, I’m going to win an Emmy for this one,” Darcy whispered to herself as she continued to read.
We brought the laptop to the couch and sat down side by side, kicking off our boots and stretching our legs out on the coffee table in front of the fire. A puff of eau de Fritz escaped the couch. I wondered when he had last showered.
There were still huge holes in the document, huge pieces of time blacked out. It was impossible to really understand what it all meant. We hurriedly scanned through what we could, so much of the terminology completely over my head.
From what I could tell, my dad had been an agent with the FBI since the late ‘80s. Ten years before his disappearance, he began working as part of a joint task force with the DEA, investigating drug cartels out of Mexico and Honduras. That explained all of the travel to Honduras and probably the phone calls to the cartel leader in Mexico.
But as I kept reading, the tone of things seemed to change. It appeared that the FBI had started becoming suspicious of some of my dad’s movements. They started tracing bank deposits and followed his travel—even personal travel. They also put a wiretap on his phone.
I realized I didn’t know how much of this was normal procedure, however. I would think that as any sort of government agent, you pretty much give up your right to privacy, knowing that you’ll always be monitored for the safety of the country. But what if you’re taking extra trips to Honduras that the FBI doesn’t know about? Well, those trips possibly aren’t “work related” and are a cause for concern. I saw words like “treason” and “possibly compromising the mission”. I couldn’t believe what I was reading.
It looked like the FBI thought my dad had become a dirty agent.
My pocket started buzzing and I jumped, knocking the laptop off kilter. Darcy saved it from crashing to the ground, and I pulled out my phone. It was a short text from Michael. All’s well. Nothing yet. Fritz is about to gas me out. I laughed silently. Poor guy. It had only been a couple of hours. A few seconds later, he texted again. Service getting spotty. That wasn’t surprising, as I’m sure they were driving in some pretty remote areas.
I put my phone away and focused my attention back on the laptop. This would take hours to sift through. I didn’t know whether or not to bring it to
Fritz’s attention yet, since obviously, more information had been unredacted since he’d last laid eyes on it. I thought I’d better keep reading first since, after all, my dad’s status seemed to change by the minute. He’s dead! Nope, he’s alive! Wait, he was on an FBI watch list! Oops, he actually was FBI! Hold on, he might have been a dirty agent!
Even though most of the document was blacked out, we managed to muddle through quite a bit. I wanted to skim through anything I didn’t think was relevant, but Darcy was determined to read every last word.
“I’m a professional,” she’d say when I’d try to page down before she was through reading. “I have to get all the facts, not just some of the facts. All of them.”
Reading “all of the facts” was like reading a monotonous textbook of in-depth information pertaining to a subject you hardly know anything about. Lots of information about investigative procedures, joint operations with other US federal agencies as well as Mexican law enforcement, special investigative units assigned to work with certain cartels in an effort to take down rival cartels. How did one keep straight who was on the right side of the law? It was all baffling, like reading a Tom Clancy novel.
A couple more hours flew by as we read the documents, page by page. My mind was muddled by all the information in them, but I still didn’t have any concrete answers. We soon realized we’d covered a lot of ground but hadn’t again heard from the guys in quite a while.
“Michael did say reception was getting spotty,” I said. I stood up to stretch out my legs and walk around the room. My vision was getting blurry from staring at the small screen for so long. I looked outside to see a bright red cardinal perched on the railing around the patio, staring in at me. It was a beautiful sight, the vibrantly colored bird in the foreground with dark green pines in the distance. The snow and ice made everything glitter and sparkle. Wait. Snow and ice?
“Oh, crap,” I said, looking at the ground. “We’ve got at least two inches out there already.” I turned around to look at Darcy. “I don’t think Michael’s ever driven on snow before.”
“You should’ve thought about that before coming to Colorado in late September,” Darcy scoffed, not the least bit concerned. Her eyes remained glued to the screen. “But don’t worry. Two inches is nothing.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to look back outside. The sky was gray and dusk was approaching. I could feel anxiety begin to wiggle its way into my brain. I tried to tell myself to calm down. They were, after all, two grown men…neither of whom knows how to drive on snow and ice. But they were in a 4WD SUV, which is great on snow but slides like anything else on ice. Surely, they were fine. They’re resourceful…but what if something’s wrong and they can’t get ahold of anyone because they don’t have any reception?
I took out my phone and sent Michael a text. Everything ok? How r u handling the snow? I tried to patiently wait for a response and distract myself by turning on the TV and watching an episode of Fixer Upper. I admit, I was distracted for about seven minutes until the commercial break. Then I started pacing, checking my phone every thirty seconds to make sure I had reception.
“Will you stop that?” Darcy finally said, setting the laptop down and stretching her legs out. “You’re making me nervous.”
“I just wish we’d hear from them.” I looked outside as it continued to get dark. “Why didn’t we set a time for them to be back? What if they plan to drive all night and I just don’t know it? At what point do I start worrying?”
“Uh, I’d say you’re already there.” Darcy stood up and yawned, reaching her arms long while making a high-pitched screech. “Man, I’m exhausted.” She looked at her watch. “And I need a change of scenery. Let’s go get something to eat. My bedtime’s approaching.”
“But shouldn’t we wait for them? What if they have news?”
Darcy waved her phone at me. “That’s why we have these. They can call us once they’re on their way back, and if we’re not here, we’ll still get the call.” She shook her head in frustration, as if she were dealing with a child.
“Fine.” I sighed heavily. I suppose she was hungry after only eating stringy green mush for lunch. I wondered if I could convince her to order a sixteen-ounce ribeye. Maybe I would order one for myself, just to spite her.
Darcy and I bundled up in our hats, coats, and scarves. No outdoor dining today. We both put our hiking boots on and stepped outside. The cold air hit us instantly, and I swear my nose hairs froze.
“You just want to drive over to the resort restaurant?” I asked, my nose already turning to ice. I had called the front desk before we left to make sure Caty had left for the day. I wasn’t too keen on Darcy driving us all the way into town in this snow to eat.
“Heck no. We’re walking. I’ve got to get some use out of these things.” She held up her foot, her Cole Haan hiking boots already caked in snow. “Toughen up, California girl.”
“Hey, I used to live in the Midwest. I can handle a good snowstorm.” It had been about twenty years, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I took off on the trail at a brisk pace, slowing down as my feet began to slip on the layer of ice buried beneath the snow.
The path was nicely lit by the lamps, the layer of snow on them creating a peaceful halo effect. The wind was calm, and the falling snow made it look like a winter wonderland. Other than my nagging anxiety over Michael and Fritz, I almost felt relaxed by it all. We took our time walking on the icy path, taking in the sudden change of seasons. But soon enough, we were at the restaurant entrance, banging the snow off our boots and yanking off the coats and scarves.
Darcy and I enjoyed a nice dinner and got to know each other a little better. She ordered a real meal of blackened salmon with rice and mixed greens, while I chose a filet, baked potato, and creamed spinach. We each had a glass of the house cabernet, and with the first sip of wine, I felt my anxiety begin to abate. By the time dessert arrived (we split a piece of chocolate truffle cake), I was beginning to feel as if everything was going to be all right. The delicious dinner and decadent dessert, combined with the velvety smoothness of the wine, sated me. I sat back from the table, hands folded over my stomach, completely satisfied. It’s funny how alcohol and good food can be so relaxing. It’s as if all is right with the world. Looking back, I should have stayed right there in that moment for a while longer. Little did I know, in only a matter of hours, all hell would break loose.
●CHAPTER 20●
AFTER OUR DELICIOUS DINNER AND DESSERT, we bundled back up and traipsed our way back to the cabin. The snow kept falling, and the weather app on my phone now predicted six inches. The path to the cabin had been swept fairly clean of snow and salted, and I was happy to see the area up to our front door had been completely cleared.
I unlocked the cabin door and we stepped inside to darkness. I swore I had left the light on just inside the door. I was certain of it. Something felt…off. I hesitated and looked around, my eyes easily acclimating to the dark inside. Darcy stopped behind me, sensing my unease.
“Uh, what’s going on?” she said quietly. “Everything okay?”
I held up a hand to silence her. My eyes scanned the room. While my ears picked up the slight rustling of the few golden leaves still hanging from the trees outside, I heard nothing inside but the occasional pop of the cabin settling. Not willing to go any further in the dark, I flipped the switch, and the overhead light in the entryway came blazing on. I stood there, confused. I knew I had left that light on before we’d gone to dinner. I’d walked out last so I could lock the door. Had someone been in here?
Darcy stepped around me and headed inside to set her purse on the table. “Hey, thanks for dinner.” She started ruffling through her papers, piling them into a neat stack. “I’m going to grab my things and head out. My bed is seriously calling my name.”
I slowly took a step into the room and shut the door behind me. “Sure thing,” I said, still unconvinced that everything was okay. “But will you stick around until I get this p
lace cleared?”
She looked up at me in confusion. “Cleared?”
“I’m going to walk around and make sure no one else has been in here. It feels…off.” Having lived alone for many years before marriage, I was quite used to that routine.
Darcy snorted, rolled her eyes, and continued to gather her things.
I grabbed the fireplace poker and, holding it like a baseball bat, began to methodically go through the cabin, looking under the couch and behind furniture, making sure no one was lurking. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something wasn’t right. There was a slightly different, almost sweet scent in the air, and I felt very on edge.
I cleared the open family room and kitchen areas quickly, then moved into the bathroom, our bedroom, and closet. I even checked out on the back patio for footprints. Nothing seemed out of place, and no one jumped out at me from a dark corner.
I went back out to the living area and set the fireplace poker back in its spot. “Everything’s okay,” I said, though I didn’t feel it. “I guess I’m just being paranoid.” I crossed my arms and stood as if I were confident in my security measures, which I wasn’t at all. I was really kind of creeped out. “Thanks for staying.”
“Yeah,” Darcy said, distracted. She looked around in confusion. “Have you seen the laptop? I thought I left it on the table before we left. Did you happen to pick it up and take it into the bedroom?”
“Which laptop?” I looked around, seeing Darcy’s tucked nicely into her bag. “Fritz’s?”
“Yeah.” Darcy put her hands on her hips. “I know this sounds crazy, but I can’t find it.” She laughed, looking around the room. “I’ve looked all over. There aren’t a whole lot of places to hide it here. I mean, it’s not like I put it in a drawer.” To be sure, we opened up all cabinets and drawers and looked under and among the cushions of the couch. Nothing. How does a laptop just disappear?
“You never took it into the bedroom, right?” I shook my head no. “We didn’t take it with us to dinner. We didn’t put it out in my car.” Darcy crossed her arms over her chest and we looked at each other, a ripple of fear running through my belly. “I think you were right to be paranoid,” Darcy said, a grim look now on her face. “Do you think we were robbed?”
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