Terror Grips the Beach

by Steve McMillen

CHAPTER 34

  I watch as the woman in question exits the store and gets into the black Impala. She slowly turns left on Sea Mountain Highway and then turns right on Ocean Boulevard. I wait until she is out of sight, and then make my way toward Ocean Boulevard. I have this gut feeling she knows I am on to her. I turn right one block before Ocean Boulevard on Spring Street and keep my eyes peeled for her to show up in front of me where the two streets intersect.

  I am aware that if she is a terrorist, this could be a dangerous game of cat and mouse. I need to stay on my toes. I am all of a sudden convinced she is one of the persons we saw next door to Doug and Nancy’s the other day, so I call Sam.

  She answers after two rings. “Now what?”

  “Do you have any unmarked cars in the Ocean Boulevard area of Cherry Grove?”

  “What are you up to now, Mickke D?”

  “I’m looking for one of the neighbors who lived in the house next to Doug and Nancy. I spotted her in the post office a few minutes ago. They painted the vehicle. The gold Impala is now black.”

  “Are you sure it’s her?”

  “I'm positive.”

  Silence, then, “Okay, but don’t get too close. We need all of them, not just one. Where are you?”

  “I’m just passing Tillman Resort heading south.”

  “And where is she?” she quickly asks.

  I’m not sure, she is somewhere in front of me. Hold on, Jim is calling.”

  I put her on hold. “Hey big guy. What did you find out?”

  “Nothing good. She purchased two pounds each of nuts, bolts and nails. Are you thinking pipe bomb?”

  “And how did you find that out?” I ask before wishing I had not.

  “I’ve played golf with the guy who checked her out.”

  For some reason, I’m not surprised. “Thanks Jim, I’ve got Sam on the phone. Go back to the office and see if you can round up Mark. I’ll get back to you.”

  I click the hold button. “Still there, detective?”

  “Still here, have you spotted her yet?”

  “No, but Jim just told me she purchased nuts, bolts and nails at the hardware store.”

  “Damn! Okay, give me a description of her and the car she’s driving.”

  “It’s a black Chevy Impala, maybe 05’ or 06’. She’s probably late twenties or early thirties with black hair. She’s wearing blue jeans, a green blouse and a brown baseball cap.”

  “All right, keep looking and let me know if you see her. Do not engage. We need all of them. We need to know where they are. Is that clear?”

  “I understand, detective. I’ll keep you advised.”

  What I don’t understand is how she disappeared. I speed up hoping to catch sight of her. I get to Main Street and she is still nowhere to be found. I’ve lost her.

  *****

  Anna wasn’t taking any chances. She turns into the first parking garage she sees and waits for her possible tail to appear. The parking garage has an entrance off Ocean Boulevard and an exit on to Spring Street, one block back from Ocean Boulevard. Within minutes, the fumble bum from the hardware store passes the garage on Spring Street. She was right. He looks like one of the guys who was at her neighbor’s house the other day, and he’s in the same vehicle she spotted in the parking lot of the hardware store.

  She leaves the garage and goes back to Sea Mountain Highway. While keeping her eyes on the rear-view mirror, she goes west to 17 before turning south and going back to the RV park. She passes the entrance of the park twice before actually turning in, just to be safe.

  When Anna arrives at the RV, another meeting takes place. She gives a full debrief as to what took place and how easily she lost her pursuer. The group decides to stay on track and for Anna not to venture outside for a while. One of the others will run any errands, that need done. They also decide to have Anna bleach her hair and to get rid of the green blouse and brown ball cap. Tonight after it gets dark, they will take the Impala back to the building and paint it again.

  They need more nuts, bolts, and nails, but they don’t want to buy large amounts at any one store so as not to bring attention to themselves.

  They also discuss the need for another P.O. box. They figure the police will be waiting for Anna if she goes back to the box at the hardware store. They make a call and tell their money benefactors not to send anything else to that P.O. box.

  By noon the following day, they have a new P.O. box, the Impala is now silver and Anna is a blonde. They continue with their original plan and schedule. Seven days left.

  CHAPTER 35

  I call Sam and give her the bad news. She is not a happy camper but thanks me anyway. I return to the office and give Jim and Mark the unpleasant news as well.

  “Well, at least we know they’re still here,” Mark says, “I guess that’s a plus.”

  “Right, but I still can’t believe I lost her and we still don’t know where they are. Jim, see if you can find out where they could have gotten their vehicles painted that quickly. I suppose you’ve played golf with some owners of body shops as well.”

  “Don’t think so, but I’ll see what I can find out,” he replies with a big grin on his face. “By the way, I asked the guy at the hardware store if he had ever seen the woman in the store before and he said not that he could remember.”

  I quickly reply, “That’s strange, because I watched her go over to the P.O. boxes at the post office.”

  Mark says, “Maybe she just got the P.O. box.”

  “Without a name, there’s no way to check that out. I didn’t see which box she went to. Okay Jim, how many people from the post office have you played golf with? See if you can find out anything about the P.O. box as well. Thanks guys, we need to stay on top of this.”

  After Jim and Mark leave my office, I put my feet up on my desk and wonder if I’m getting too old for this type of work. How did I lose that woman that quickly?

  I jump in my SUV and go back down to the scene of my embarrassing failure. I take the route she took and not the route I took. As soon as I see the parking garage on my right, I figure it out. She popped in here and as soon as I went by, she backtracked and left the area. How could I be so stupid as to have not looked into the parking garage? However, if I had, she may have run or started shooting and we would never have figured out where the rest of them are staying. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Not sure about the logic, but it definitely makes me feel better.

  An hour later, Jim returns to my office. “Well, I got the down and dirty on the P.O. box. A woman rented a box three days ago for one month, which would have been the timeframe we’re looking at. Of course, they would not give me any names or addresses but they did say she paid in cash.”

  “Well, we all know the name and address doesn’t exist. And should I ask how in the world you got that information?” I ask.

  “Well, I took my golfing buddy from the checkout counter back to the post office to vouch for me, showed them my PI license and said it was a matter of national security.”

  “You never cease to amaze me,” I comment.

  He continues, “And they are going to put a hold on everything going to that P.O. box.”

  “Great, but when Sam calls to find out why we’re messing around with her investigation, I’m going to have her contact you.”

  “No problem, I’ll claim client/PI confidentiality.”

  I change the subject. “So anything on the body shops yet?”

  “No, but that’s next on my list.”

  “Stay on your toes. If they figure out I was tailing her and who we are, they may come after us, as well.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Bob Linde is getting antsy. He’s been laying low for over a week and he thinks it’s about time to make his move. He knows where Mickke D’s office is and he found his home address online. His only decision now is which one of these places would be the easiest to attack. He had no problem with the couple who saw Jeffrey and him at the marina, or Mary Kay at
her apartment, but this one may not be quite as easy.

  He decides he will have a better chance of getting out of town after dark. He packs up some personal things and has everything in his vehicle when he arrives at Mickke D’s home address around 10 p.m.

  *****

  I’m watching TV and Blue is curled up on the couch sound asleep. I hear a car go by slowly. The police patrol the area so my apprehension goes away quickly but not for long.

  Blue’s head comes up from the couch and a low growl resonates from deep in his belly. I do not hesitate, I whisper for Blue to “stay,” grab my .45 from the table next to my chair, and quietly open the sliding glass door to my porch. I am out with little or no sound. I go around the deck and down the stairs to the side of the house where I gingerly continue to the corner of the garage. I peer around the corner and see a strange car parked across the street from my driveway. There are no lights on, but the motor is running.

  I invited no one to come over and no one called to say they were coming over so I’m guessing this is not a friendly visit. My only problem is how many came to visit. As I come around in front of the garage door, I hear a trigger being cocked and I stop. Next, I hear my doorbell ring and Blue barks.

  The time has come to engage. I take a step around the corner of the house and ask, “Are you looking for me?” while pointing my gun at the lone figure’s back. I see what looks like a sawed-off shotgun hanging from his right arm. “Drop the scatter gun, raise your hands and turn around slowly or I’ll blow your head off.”

  My uninvited guest says without turning or dropping the weapon, “Sorry, I must have the wrong address.”

  His accent and voice are a dead give-away. It’s Bob Linde. “Mr. Linde, I am only going to say this one more time. Un-cock your weapon and let it drop to the ground.”

  I hear the click and the gun falls to the concrete stoop. As he starts to raise his right hand, I notice his left hand goes around toward his stomach. Before he can pull a weapon and make the turn, I fire one time. Linde falls to his knees and keels over on my front stoop. A pistol drops from his left hand.

  I walk up, kick both weapons away, and feel his neck for a pulse. There is a weak pulse so I immediately go inside, call 911 and ask them to send an emergency vehicle to my address.

  My next call is to Detective Sam’s cell phone. She answers after three rings. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

  “Yes, I do. Bob Linde just tried to kill me. You had better come over to my house. I already called 911.”

  “You okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Is Linde dead?”

  “No, I think he is still alive but just barely.”

  “I’ll call it in and be right there.”

  I end the call, walk back outside and just as I reach my yard, Jim comes charging out of his house and runs toward me with gun in hand. I hold up my hand and yell out, “It’s me, Jim, stand down. It’s over.”

  He slows to a walk and lowers his weapon. “What the hell happened? I was in the bathroom when I heard the gunshot.”

  “Yeah, and so did all my neighbors.” I watch as porch lights and garage lights go on across the street at Mary Ann’s and my next-door neighbor Elaine’s, as well as most of the homes on the cul-de-sac.

  Within minutes, the EMTs come down the street, followed by a police cruiser and stop in front of my house. Now, I look around and it seems as if the entire street is filled with neighbors looking my way. Detective Sam pulls up seconds later. “Mickke D, I’m surprised your neighbors don’t ask you to move. You’re bad news for the local real estate market.”

  “Very funny, detective.” I murmur.

  She looks at the EMTs as they come by with Bob Linde on a gurney and asks, “Is he going to make it?”

  One of them with “Tim” on his uniform answers, “Well, he’s alive now. We’ll get him to the hospital as quickly as we can.”

  I look at Sam and say, “You need to see if you can find out why he came after me.”

  “That’s my job, Mickke D. I’ll see what I can find out.” She turns to face Jim and says, “Mr. Bolin, have you been questioning employees at the post office in Cherry Grove claiming to be with Homeland Security?”

  Jim gets that Who me? look on his face, “No way, detective. I have never claimed to be with Homeland Security. I may have asked them a few questions but that was all.”

  “Okay, both of you. Tomorrow morning, 10 o’clock, my office, be there.” She turns and walks away.

  Jim half-whispers, “We seem to spend a lot of time at her office. Do you think she’s pissed or just messing with us. Damn, I have an 8:30 tee time in the morning.”

  “Probably a little bit of both. I guess you’ll have to call first thing in the morning and cancel your tee time. I’ll pick you up about 9:40.”

  Once everyone finally leaves, I get a bucket of water and a brush to clean the blood off my stoop. Just as I begin, Mary Ann, my very attractive single neighbor from across the street, who just recently moved in, walks over and says, “I know I haven’t lived here long, but does this happen often at your house? I was just talking to Bill and Hazel, and they said it’s happened before.”

  “Oh, no, Mary Ann, just a couple of mis-understandings. Hopefully, this will be the last one.”

  “That’s good, because I moved down here to the beach for some peace and quiet. This is not peace and quiet.” She turns and walks back across the street to her house before I can reply. Sounds like I probably won’t be on her Christmas card list.

  CHAPTER 37

  We arrive at Sam’s office about 9:55 and we are ushered into her office. She begins by saying, “Mr. Linde made it through surgery, but he’s still in recovery. I’ll let you know if I find out anything. I also notified Agent Colder at DEA to come pick him up. He can share a cell with Jeffrey Barrons. So, Mickke D, tell me what happened last night.”

  I give a detailed explanation of how the whole incident came about and then she asked me to write it all down and sign it. She could have just said to write it down in the beginning, but I think she wanted to make it as time-consuming as possible.

  Next, she jumps on Jim for talking with the employees at the post office without consulting her first and then tells him and me to write down exactly what took place at the hardware store. She also reminds me that I lost the suspect and maybe the possibility of finding the entire crew of terrorists. I was very much aware of that without her bringing it up again.

  Finally, she tells us to keep our eyes open but that the police will handle the situation from this point forward. I interject by saying, “But I’m the only one who has seen her. Don’t you want me to keep looking for her?”

  Without changing expression she replies, “What you do during your normal daily investigations is up to you. I’m just telling you this is a police matter. And I just know you will keep me advised if you discover anything.”

  “Absolutely, detective. You’ll be the first person I call. And I know that if anything comes up on your end with Bob Linde or you find out something that may help us with our daily investigations, you will let us know as well.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Mickke D. Now both of you get out of here.”

  *****

  Two days later, Jim comes into my office and tells me he could not find any body shops in the area that might have painted the Impala, but one shop manager told him about a possible body shop out in the country near Longs.

  A friend of the shop manager told him that he had leased his building to some people who said they were going to start an auto painting shop. The shop manager gave Jim the man’s phone number. Jim called, spoke with the man, and got the address in Longs. The man described the couple who leased the building and it sounded like the couple next door to Doug and Nancy Scottish. “So, do you want to call Detective Concile, or should we go check it out?”

  “What do you think? Is Mark around?”

  “Yeah, I think he’s in h
is office.”

  “Well, grab him. Tell him to lock and load, we’re going on a recon mission.”

  Forty-five minutes later, we have the building in sight. It sits about seventy-five yards off the road. It looks to be about 100’ x 100’ with a pull-up garage door and a single solid front door. It is built with red aluminum siding and a metal roof. It seems deserted. We see no vehicles and no activity. I drive past the building, turn around and come back. We still see absolutely nothing except a building sitting in an open field with no signs or advertising.

  I drive my SUV down the short road to the building and stop about fifty feet away. We still don’t see any activity. I look at Jim and Mark, pull my .45, and say, “Okay guys, time to see if anyone is home and be careful, the place could be booby-trapped. Mark, you go around to the right, Jim to the left, and I’ll check out the front door. Call out if you see anything and again, be careful.”

  The front door is solid with no window, so I can’t see inside. I carefully try the doorknob and it is locked. After looking the door over, I get out a credit card and deftly slide the card into the opening and “click,” the door is unlocked. I carefully turn the knob and back off as I slowly push the door inward. I slide quickly through the opening with gun in hand. After my eyes get a chance to adjust to the dark building, I see what looks like a paint-booth, compressors and cans of paint sitting around. Then I see something that makes my spine tingle. As I locate the light switch and turn the overhead lights on, I call out to Mark and Jim, “It’s clear. Come on in through the front door. You need to see this.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Marty, Ronnie, Phil, and Anna have been busy assembling their explosive devices. They brought the explosive materials with them from Canada after killing two border patrol agents at a remote crossing and evading the authorities. The three men go out daily and purchase small quantities of nuts, bolts and nails from different stores all over the beach so as not to raise any eyebrows.