by Cindy Cromer
“When’s the last time you saw Ginny?”
“About two months ago, she came to Las Vegas and stayed with me for a week. She gambled a little, we saw some shows, the normal thing anyone does in this town.”
“When’s the last time you talked to her, Mr. Spencer?”
Confused, Gary looked up from the cup of coffee he sipped. “What’s with all of the questions about my siblings? I thought you were here about Caitlin?”
“I am but we’re questioning the members of your entire family. The thing is we haven’t been able to reach your twin. Since you two are so close, I thought you might know where she is.”
“Oh, I talked to her about two weeks ago. She said she was taking a trip but didn’t say where.”
“You have no idea where she might have gone? Is she dating anyone?”
“Ginny never liked the heat and humidity of summer in South Carolina and she likes to go up North where it’s a little cooler. Sometimes she goes back to New Jersey or rents a house in one of the New England states. Her deceased husband set her up pretty well financially, so she can pick and choose where she wants to go. The last time I saw her, she said she’d been seeing someone on and off for a while, didn’t tell me anything about him, but when it got more serious she’d fill me in.”
“I’m curious. Ginny likes to get away from the heat but yet vacationed here in Vegas two months ago, in May, when the temperature had already gotten into the hundreds,” Edward Cox commented, his facial expression neutral. He made a notation in his notebook.
“She didn’t venture outside much, other than from the car, to the casino, or a show.”
Edward’s next question caught Gary by surprise. “Ever had contact with Lukas Bucklin, Mr. Spencer?”
Gary dropped his empty coffee cup on the cheaply tiled floor.
* * * *
Jack read the paper in the kitchen. He heard the blow dryer turn off and other sounds of Constance bustling about to get ready to leave. He slapped the paper onto the table. He couldn’t concentrate on what he read because he continued to stew over the disagreement with his wife.
Constance flitted into the room, picked up her keys, purse, and said over her shoulder, “I’m leaving for the airport, Jack. Dean’s flight gets into West Palm in an hour.”
Jack shot up from the table and stalked after his wife to finish the argument they had last night when he found out she’d sprung for tickets to fly Dean to Florida.
“Constance! What’re you planning to accomplish by bringing Dean here? That kid has never been responsible for anything and you coming to his rescue, flying him off everywhere at a whim, makes him more spoiled.”
“Jack, why are you so against Dean being here? He’s our son and we need our family with us now. He’s my son! I can’t get to Caitlin and Daniel’s awaiting the birth of our third grandchild. I want one of my children here with me.”
Jack gripped his wife’s arm. “You baby Dean too much and I want him to grow up, be a man, and be responsible. He’s thirty-three for crying out loud, but acts like he’s still a college student. I’m also worried we might be putting him in danger by bringing him here. At least Daniel’s in Atlanta. These threats are tied into my adoption and are now affecting my children.”
Jack stated his opinion but refrained from burdening Constance with his suspicions.
“Correction, Jack, our children, and the hell with your damn adoption! I married you because I fell in love with you and could care less who your real father is. I know you’re upset over what has been happening to Caitlin, as much as I am. What’s your true fear, our daughter’s life, or the truth you have tried to deny all of these years finally coming out? As long as our entire family is safe I could care less what skeletons fall out of the closet. Your real father should be the least of your concerns right now!”
Chapter Fifteen
Each time Caitlin attempted to lift her eyelids they clamped shut. Full consciousness eluded her in this sluggish state. She just wanted to burrow under the covers and drift off back to sleep. Sunlight beamed through the curtain. Her eyes opened wide when she turned to look at the clock on the nightstand. The digital glow read 10:00 a.m., half the morning had passed.
She peeked at her bandaged finger and slumped back onto the bed, overwhelmed at her foolish behavior. Caitlin had never been one to show emotion, especially not in such a fashion of the meltdown she experienced at Sandy Bay yesterday.
She made her way to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and splashed cold water on her face. The sedative Tomas gave her had thrown her for a loop. The last thing she remembered was crawling into bed with Scott holding her and telling her everything would be okay.
Caitlin decided to face the music. She walked out of the master bedroom, expecting to find her family, but found Mitch instead, alone and watching a morning quiz show.
“Morning, Caitlin. How’re you feeling?” Mitch asked.
“Horrible, that was no mild sedative. I feel like I’ll never wake up.”
Mitch handed her a strong cup of black coffee and glass of orange juice. “Here try this. It’ll clear the cobwebs. Scott and the kids are at the hotel beach. Tomas is at the station with Drew.”
“So you ended up with the short straw and got Caitlin babysitting duty, right? Geez, I hate being so helpless and vulnerable. We’ve been here since Monday, four days, and everyday some other nightmare has come out of the woodwork.”
Caitlin took her coffee and juice onto the spacious balcony and sat in the lounge chair. The hot sun bathed her. The warmth did nothing to change her mood. She’d been a fool the previous day and let the pressure get to her. She took a large swallow of the bitter coffee and prayed it would give her strength.
Another cup of coffee, a quick shower and Caitlin could function again. Dressed in her bathing suit, she grabbed the beach bag. “I’m going to join Scott and the kids at the beach. I’m much better. Thanks for the coffee and standing guard while I slept.”
“Wait up, I’m coming with you.” Mitch bolted off the couch.
“That’s not necessary. I’ve taken up enough of your morning, I’m sure Drew needs you for more important duties than chaperoning me.”
“Correction, the only priority on my agenda is to stick to you like glue. That’s a directive straight from Drew. You better get used to having a shadow.”
Caitlin rolled her eyes and then flung the door open. She gasped, stepped back, and bumped into Mitch. A man loomed in the doorway. He fumbled with paperwork, behind him stood a woman and a pile of luggage.
Startled, the man apologized. “Oh, I’m sorry, let me move these bags. We just checked in and I got the room numbers mixed up. We’re in the suite next door. Let me introduce myself, I’m Pete and this is my wife Kathryn. We’re on our honeymoon.”
Caitlin congratulated them and headed in the direction of the beach. Her mind switched to business, a sure sign the drug had left her system. She berated herself. She’d missed the appointment with the realtor handling the sale of the warehouse. They rode right by the damn thing twice yesterday; the first on the way to Rita and Paul’s, the second time didn’t count, because Caitlin had been unconscious.
She weaved through the crowded pool area but not everyone got out of her way. She bumped into one hot sticky body after another and grimaced. Her control of life slipped away with each passing day. She had to get it back and secure that building.
Caitlin intended for the engineering and lab work to be performed at headquarters in Florida. These costs wouldn’t have to be duplicated at the Caribbean location.
The raw materials needed to build the equipment, would be shipped directly from the manufacturer. The assembly process, simple and clearly defined in the standard operating procedure, could be completed by lower level technicians under minimal supervision. The bonus being the reduction of the transportation costs of the completed units. The operational systems would be shipped directly from St. Kitts to the ne
arby Caribbean islands and South American countries, with whom CSM had several major contracts and purchase orders in place.
* * * *
After Constance left, Jack utilized the time alone to call Barry Solerno. Barry, a former investigator with the District Attorney’s office, held an impressive record. His unique and strictly by-the-book investigative techniques, contributed to many of Jack’s successes over a twenty-five year reign in office. The winning cases claimed record breaking statistics reaching beyond the New Jersey area.
When Jack retired at age fifty-five, he encouraged Barry to branch out on his own and become a Private Investigator. Jack backed him and invested in BS Investigations. Barry took the company to great heights. BS expanded, had national offices, and now provided security services too.
Jack, being classy, conservative, and modest, first balked at the name in which Barry chose for the company. He thought the BS would attract low-life and low paying cases. The opposite happened. Before long, Barry obtained numerous lucrative accounts and could now pick and choose his new clients. His initials were a coincidence but the name of his firm suited him well. Barry’s reputation as the living, breathing, bull-shit investigator, allowed him to rise to success in the DA department and as an entrepreneur.
After ten years Jack had nothing to complain about regarding the name of the company. Jack’s initial investment returned ten-fold. He’d planned his retirement carefully so he and Constance could live comfortably in Florida. With the money that rolled in from BS Investigations and Security, the Spencer’s lived a luxurious lifestyle. Jack played a minor but active role in the company. Serving as legal counsel he wrote, reviewed, and negotiated all contracts for the firm and still managed to enjoy his retirement.
The finalization on negotiations with David Calloway, a multi-million dollar real estate mogul, projected millions.
Barry answered on the third ring. “Jack, sorry I haven’t gotten back to you but you didn’t exactly give me anything easy to work with. You know this is a touchy situation, even for me.”
“Barry, I know you have a lot of angles to cover with the information I gave you but what have you found?”
“Nada, zip, zilch. The name you wanted me to chase down led nowhere. He’s dropped off of the face of the earth. There’re no records whatsoever for the past ten years, and I mean none!”
“Nothing, how can that be?” Jack gripped the phone and paced.
“I have no idea at this point. He last worked for an electronics company. He left several months before the joint went up in flames, burned to the ground killing ten people. He wasn’t one of them. The company that went out of business enabled Bucklin to fast track their electronics division. I do have some info from my contacts with the FBI.”
“I thought you were persona non grata with them. The FBI looks down their nose at police organizations and they regard your type as insignificant pests, especially you since you’ve lured away some of their top agents.”
“Well, they might not like PIs but I do have my ways as you know. What can I say? I charge big bucks for my services so I, or should I say we, can pay top dollar to hire the best. I do have a few of them I’m still working on hiring, particularly the pretty one’s that give me the time of day.”
“Okay, enough with your damn charm and wooing of the FBI! Tell me what you have and whether your security agent is in St. Kitts yet?” Jack demanded
“All right, all right calm down, I’ll get to the point. He and a companion arrived this morning and checked into the suite next to your daughter’s. They’re posing as a honeymooning couple. Fully armed, they’ll keep your family safe. Are you sure you don’t want to tell Caitlin about this? She’s been scared enough. If she gets one inkling someone’s following her and her family, she’ll only be more upset.”
“No, I don’t want to tell her. You know how headstrong and independent she is. What’ve you heard from your source at the FBI?” Jack questioned.
“Well, for one thing, Tomas Medina is chasing down the same avenue you sent me down but hasn’t gotten anywhere either. The Bucklins are fielding all questions and warrants through Zach Owens, the corporate attorney. The FBI can’t find Bucklin Senior but I know he’s holed up in his villa in Barbados. The FBI hasn’t found him yet because he went down on his buddy’s private yacht. The Bucklin corporate jet’s been on the island of Barbados for the past six months and Lukas has been using the yacht. At least I’m ahead of the FBI,” Barry said with pride in his voice.
Jack didn’t need to ask how he got his inside information. Lukas hired Barry to perform pre-employment checks. Once in the door, he managed to get a contract, written and signed by Jack, for security services. Barry now supplied security for all of the Bucklin offices and locations worldwide, one of BS’s biggest moneymakers.
“Barbados you said? It’s not that close to St. Kitts but a hell of a lot easier and quicker to get to than from the US, especially with a yacht. You better make sure as hell your guy down there protects my family, you hear me?” Jack disconnected the call.
* * * *
Barry knew his business partner well. Jack had a knack for commanding a conversation and ending it when he deemed necessary; those qualities made him an excellent DA. He needed to lighten up. Barry knew that wouldn’t happen. Jack was Jack and he’d never change.
Jack’s rude conclusion to their phone conversation didn’t offend Barry but did leave him puzzled. Jack had to know where Tomas got his information, didn’t he? The FBI agent knew the true identity of someone who no longer existed but Jack failed to acknowledge the fact. Barry’s instincts told him Jack held something back. He drummed his fingers on a large document that detailed the mandatory and thorough FBI background check of Scott Martel. His thoughts were, what did you get us into back then, Jack?
* * * *
Not many boats were out and about on the still waters of Lake Mead. Gary had been fishing for over an hour and hadn’t had a single bite. He sat at the front of the boat and gripped his fishing pole, hoping he’d catch something soon. Muck from the bottom or a piece of debris would do, anything to occupy his time and stop the worries running though his head.
He couldn’t take his mind off the visit from Agent Cox and he fretted over his sister. The last question the FBI agent posed threw him for a loop. He hoped he sounded convincing enough in his answer. He’d told the truth but also lied. He never communicated with Lukas directly. The lie, he set out to make contact with Lukas after his mother confessed to him. He left messages, but they were not returned. So, no, he hadn’t spoken to Lukas.
Gary soothed his troubled mind and convinced himself he’d told the truth. He bolstered his confidence further. The FBI wouldn’t know anything about those ancient long forgotten phone calls, nor were they incriminating. His worries subsided but weren’t completely eliminated.
His thoughts switched to his twin sister. He hadn’t heard from her, the FBI couldn’t locate her, and to accelerate Gary’s concern, her cell went directly to voice mail. He knew his sister carried her cell-phone with her, turned on and charged twenty-four hours a day.
Ginny hated the heat and Vegas wasn’t the place to be for the cooler climate lovers, just as Edward pointed out. Her last visit troubled him. She seemed bothered by something. He tried to remember her words and the frightening scene played back in his mind…
“Mom didn’t tell you anything else, what about Dad? He must’ve said something about Jack’s father? Did you ever ask any of our aunts or uncles? Someone has to know, Gary, we have to find out if the Bucklin’s are related.”
Gary stared at his sister in disbelief, wondering if she took any prescription medicine to cause this state of hysteria. She became more frantic and obsessed with each passing minute.
“Ginny, what’s gotten into you? Lukas Bucklin isn’t related to us. If what Mom said is true, it’s Jack he’s related to and has nothing to do with either you or me. I thought we agreed to put this beh
ind us.”
“No, you decided to put it behind us after you tried to blame Caitlin for telling me and Carol! I suggested we get to the bottom of it. The best thing that happened was that Jack blamed Caitlin for spilling the beans and caused quite a rift between father and his precious daughter!” Ginny’s eyes blazed in fury, her words laced with bitterness.
Gary, alarmed with the venom festering inside his sister, tried to calm her. “Ginny, why are you so hateful toward our brother and his family? He may be only a half-brother, but we grew up as a family, Caitlin’s your niece for God’s sake. How can you find joy in her pain? I caused a lot of trouble and miss the relationships we had in the past, Christmas, Easter, and birthday celebrations.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes and miss my family. My sons are grown and I barely see them, at least I’ve put the past behind me and turned my life around. Granted, I don’t have the most respectable career but I’m proud to make a decent, honest living.”
Gary’s soothing tone had an effect on Ginny. She pulled herself together and some of the fire diminished from her eyes.
She responded in a calmer, controlled voice. “You’re right. I guess I just got carried away. I admit I’ve always been jealous of Jack, so perfect and self-righteous. It makes me angry that Mom never told me herself. If she got pregnant by a rich man, why couldn’t Mom have pressured him so that we could’ve lived on easy street?”
Gary knew he stood on unsteady ground in this situation. He had to comfort and reassure his sister but her earlier outburst frightened him. She focused her anger at him, their mother, Jack, and the entire world seemed susceptible to her wrath. He couldn’t figure out why, but recognized she needed a pep talk and reality check.
He worded his response carefully so he could uplift her self-confidence and at the same time ensure she comprehended the facts. The true facts, not what Ginny had conjured up in her mind. “Ginny, there’s a lot that none of us know and probably never will. We were raised in a loving family and provided for. As far as easy street goes, I don’t think you’re in any position to complain. It’s a known fact you went through a rough time, before and after your husband died of cancer, but he set you up pretty damn good. You’ll have no financial worries.