Desperate Measures

by Cindy Cromer

  “They don’t? Well I’m glad I did! Do you travel much, dear?” Mackenzie Zegar asked.

  “Oh some, I visit my sister in St. Kitts a few times a year.”

  “I hear St. Kitts is beautiful but that’s a long flight all by yourself,.” Mackenzie probed further, trying to coax the conversation along.

  “Oh, it goes by pretty quickly. Traveling alone isn’t that bad. My husband and I used to go together but he passed away three years ago, six months before my brother-in-law died. My sister and I are both alone now and like to visit each other as much as we can.” Bingo! The obituaries will list the family of the deceased and he could figure out the sister’s name.

  “Well, you have a wonderful trip, Mrs. Thompson.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Rich Gilbert entered Ian Yates’s apartment. He heard the question being asked by the interrogating agent.

  “Mr. Yates, did anyone see you while you were in Maine at this isolated cabin?”

  “Yes. At the beginning of my vacation I ran into someone I used to work with, Michael Holmes. I don’t have his number but I’m sure you have the resources to track him down. He’ll confirm he saw me.” The bewildered Ian Yates answered with caution.

  “Hold on a minute.” Rich grabbed the investigator’s arm and dragged him into the kitchen where he couldn’t be overheard. “Fill me in quick. I need to get Tomas on the phone to talk to this guy.” After a brief summary, Rich had Tomas on the line. “I’ll put you on speaker phone in a minute but his alibi is Michael Holmes. Ian’s been on vacation for two and a half weeks and says he hasn’t been to Nevis or St. Kitts in a month.”

  “Hurry!” Tomas commanded.

  “Mr. Yates, this is FBI Senior Special Agent in charge, Tomas Medina. I’m going to ask you some of the same questions you’ve already been asked. If you don’t cooperate the agent with you will take you into custody.”

  “I’ll cooperate. I have no idea where all of these questions are leading. I just got back from Maine and have done nothing wrong.”

  “We have the last two weeks of flight and hotel records charged to the resort that you consult for in Nevis. How do you explain that?” Tomas challenged.

  “It wasn’t me. I notified the hotel that I’d be on vacation and I would be back in four weeks to upgrade their new accounting software.”

  “Several hotel managers verify you were indeed present and working a few days last week and the week before.”

  “I don’t know what more I can tell you, it wasn’t me,” Ian said in his own defense.

  “Do you know a Mackenzie Zegar?” Tomas asked.

  “Mackenzie? I haven’t seen him in years. We used to work at the same company. I didn’t know him very well.”

  Rich guessed Tomas had thrown the name out as a diversion tactic. He hadn’t anticipated Ian’s response. More perplexed by the minute, Rich pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

  Tomas forged on in the questioning process. “Tell me what you remember about him.”

  “Quiet guy, didn’t seem to have many friends, wasn’t married, and didn’t have any children. The last time I heard from him, he was injured in the fire that destroyed the company. I resigned about four months before the incident and started my own computer consulting business. I talked to him on the phone after the fire while he was still in the hospital. His voice was hoarse from smoke inhalation. I think he got a settlement from the company in the range of a couple million dollars.”

  “Mr. Yates, did you see Mackenzie after that?” Tomas continued.

  “No. I just talked to him on the phone that one time.”

  “Describe what you remember of his physical appearance the last time you saw him.”

  “Not too tall, average looking like me. We computer geeks have an image to uphold, dark hair, thin, lanky guy.”

  “Sounds like you just described yourself and Michael Holmes,” Tomas stated.

  “Sort of. I told you we nerds look alike but Michael Holmes has unique blue eyes. My eyes are blue but not like his.”

  “Did Michael look any different when you saw him in Maine?”

  “No, he looked the same. The years have been kind to Michael. His hair was still thick and dark brown. Very few wrinkles lined his face. He looked a lot younger than he really is.”

  “Please give your passport to Agent Gilbert. I’ll stay on the line.”

  “Hold on I have it in my desk, I’ll be right back,” Ian stated and left the room.

  When Ian exited, Rich picked up the phone, disconnected the speaker, and whispered. “Tomas, I’m on it and will run a check on Zegar’s medical and financial history but I’ve been observing this Ian guy’s every move and gesture. I’m not getting any guilty vibes off him. He appears to be as confused and in the dark as we are.”

  Tomas agreed with Rich’s assessment. “I know. Bet he comes back with no passport.”

  Rich turned on the speaker again. Ian’s voice, getting louder and more panicked, verified the prediction Tomas had just made. “My passport’s missing. I know it was there before I left. I always put it in the same spot so it’s readily available, since I have to travel out of the country so often. What happened to it?”

  “Someone stole it and used it to impersonate you. We’ll have a lot more questions for you. Do not leave the state of New York and make sure you give the agents accurate contact information. One other thing, what size shoes do you wear?”

  “Size nine.”

  * * * *

  Scott glanced toward Caitlin and knew she was thinking the same thing. It wouldn’t be long before the kids got bored with the Wii game. The clear, sunny skies gave no indication of a hurricane.

  “Dad,” Chad complained, “I want to go swimming.”

  Scott looked over to the others. “Sure, kiddo, why don’t we go down to the pool and swim. It’s a little late in the day to drive to any of our favorite beach spots over the mountain. That okay with you and your sister?”

  Chad shrugged, the gesture indicated the boy wasn’t enthused.

  “Go get your bathing suit on and I’ll change Alexandra.” Caitlin stood, picked up her daughter, and strode toward the bathroom. She threw a worried look over her shoulder at her husband. Scott forced a smile.

  While the kids changed, Scott called hotel security to notify them that the family would be leaving for the pool area in a few minutes. The head of security assured him that he’d notify the staff.

  Scott was anxious to hear what Tomas had learned. A quick glance around the room confirmed privacy. “Well?” Scott asked.

  “Nothing, the Nevis plane landed, Ian’s seat vacant. The only passenger who raised any flags was Zegar on the St. Kitts flight, and he’s still missing. All other passengers who checked in boarded. Another dead end, he won’t be on the plane that lands today.”

  “So now what?” Scott questioned. “We know this guy got here as Ian Yates but he also left as Ian Yates. How’s he getting back?”

  “I don’t know.” Tomas rubbed his forehead. “I thought for sure we’d catch him today. Tomorrow’s Sunday and the only flight coming here is from Miami. No one stands out from the roster. San Juan isn’t even running the Nevis flight. Where the hell is he and when is he going to show up?”

  * * * *

  They walked down the broad stone steps leading to the sprawling pool and recreation area. Caitlin slackened her step and the children raced ahead with Pam and Chris. She lingered back with Scott and Tomas, forced them to stop with a demanding question. “Okay, so what the hell happens now? Tomas, last night you said you were sure you’d catch this guy today. Once again he fell under the radar, right?”

  Both men stood facing Caitlin. Tomas spoke first. “Caitlin, I know this is frustrating but yes, you’re right. This guy is very clever and slipped by our trap.”

  “But who the hell is he, dammit?” Caitlin commanded. “Last night you said it was Ian Yates who is really Michael
Holmes. Now you’re searching for a Mackenzie Zegar, while Ian Yates sits in New York. Is Ian Michael or what, and what do any of these men have to do with me? I’ve never heard of any of them! Lastly, what have you stirred up with the Bucklins?”

  Caitlin’s eyes darted from Scott to Tomas. They looked uncomfortable. Scott broke the silence and spoke. “Lukas and James Bucklin’s lawyer is still running interference, insufficient and no physical evidence. Certainly nothing that any judge in his right mind would issue a warrant to grant DNA tests for. With their fortune, they have paternity claims out the ass, ranging from the woman that James smiled at last week at one of his shindigs to one of the clerks who worked in Lukas’s original grocery store. There’s some connection between Ian, Michael, Max, and Bucklin Enterprises that ties into the fire. We just don’t know what the link or motivation is yet.”

  “You don’t know yet? These are three computer whizzes and a multi-billionaire. Where do I and DNA fit in, I ask again?”

  As if attempting to diffuse a heated argument, Tomas broke into the conversation. “Caitlin, if it will make you feel any better right now, there’s no indication this guy is back on the island yet. I repeat yet, so don’t let your guard down. Barry is with Lukas in Barbados. I can’t believe I’m saying this about a PI but I hope to hell he can get us some kind of lead. I know damn well he’ll grill the guy even if the FBI can’t touch him at this time.”

  Caitlin blew out a breath so hard her bangs fluffed in the air. She turned and stomped down the remainder of the staircase, threw her bag on a nearby chair, and dove into the crystal clear pool to play with her children.

  * * * *

  After Caitlin’s grand exit, Tomas grabbed Scott’s arm in a firm grip. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell her. What’s wrong with you? You know there’s going to be hell to pay when she finds out that you kept this from her don’t you?”

  “Stay the fuck out of it, Tomas! There’s more to this than you know. You didn’t look far enough into the background of the person we know as Michael Holmes, did you? In his history, there was an armed robbery case against him that should’ve been airtight but turned out to be the embarrassment of the century, not only for the police department but the DA’s office as well. Unsigned paperwork, missing evidence, the DA had no choice but to throw the case out. She needs to hear it from him once and for all, not me. Do I need to spell anything else out?” Scott gritted his teeth.

  “I get the picture and it explains Jack’s resistance in coming here. He’s trying to keep Caitlin safe by drawing this guy to him, right?”

  “That would be my guess since only Constance and Dean are heading to Atlanta tomorrow. Jack claims he’s finishing hurricane preparations and is flying out on the evening flight.”

  “Jesus Christ! I hate being in the middle of this shit!” Tomas said and stormed off.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  After finishing eighteen holes of golf, Barry raced toward the waiting air-conditioned limousine, an oasis to him after being stranded in the desert. A quick glance back told him Lukas, the old geezer, could play another round. He’d had enough of the heat and longed to plop into the back seat of that long stretch cool haven. Barry reached the car and dove into the vehicle. After a few seconds, he righted himself and pointed the air vents at his face, full speed. Lukas, not a drop of perspiration on him, entered and sat next to Barry.

  “Lukas, the next time you summon me here, make it January or February, all right? Not the middle of the summer.”

  “Barry, Barry, you obviously aren’t a tropical climate kind of man. I’ve never seen anyone sweat so much in my life.”

  “We all have our preferences. I was born in Canada, moved to upstate New York when I was ten, met Sheila in college and we moved to New Jersey…” After an awkward pause, Barry continued. “Never mind about any of that, the point is, give me a snow bunny any day over a beach bunny.”

  “How come you never remarried? You’re a handsome guy and great catch.”

  Barry shot Lukas a look and put up a protective shell. He had to, if he didn’t melancholy would overwhelm him. He had no intention of discussing his deceased wife or his failure to move on and get on with his life.

  Barry disregarded Lukas’s question. “I’m in no mood for serious talk, personal or professional. We’ll get down to business later, after I take a shower. That’s why I’m here isn’t it, business? One other thing, as your guest I have a simple request.”

  “Yes, we have minor business to discuss but relax a little and enjoy some vacation time. What’s your request? I’m sure my staff can accommodate all of your needs.”

  “Your damn shower heads better spray ice chips instead of water!” Satisfied with the now lightened mood, Barry leaned back and joined Lukas in a bout of laughter.

  “How about a compromise? If the water’s not cold enough to meet your satisfaction, the butler can bring a tub of ice and draw you a bath. Will that suffice?”

  Barry chuckled and mopped his brow with the hand towel attached to his waist.

  “That’ll be just fine, heaven in fact. Call ahead so my bath is drawn when we arrive.” Both men laughed again.

  * * * *

  “Welcome to St. Kitts, ladies and gentlemen.” The pilot spoke from the cockpit. “On behalf of the crew and myself, we thank you for flying with us and hope you had a comfortable flight from New York. Enjoy your stay. We’ll be taxiing for just a few minutes and then will un-board the plane. Please see a flight attendant if you don’t have the customs declaration forms. You will need all of your paperwork filled out and completed prior to clearing customs.”

  Mackenzie Zegar observed the flight attendants and sighed in relief. None of them acted as if they’d received an alert of a suspicious passenger on board the plane. Still safe, they must not have found the real Mabel yet. According to his calculations she should be out for several more hours.

  The thought of the slight discomfort the old gal would experience once she regained consciousness caused a sting of guilt. The sedative in the tea would give her a day or two of grogginess. The main discomfort would be cramped muscles. Being tied up and propped on a toilet seat would stiffen the skeletal and muscular structure of an older woman.

  The plane stopped. Mackenzie didn’t notice any police officers or FBI agents on the tarmac waiting to climb the steps into the airplane. He pushed aside his uncharacteristic, humane, and sympathetic thoughts, and experienced a burst of confidence. He was almost home free.

  One more step: clear customs. Mackenzie pulled out the compact in the purse, peered at his reflection, and checked it against the passport photo. The picture wasn’t a perfect match but close enough. Who took good passport or driver’s license pictures anyway? If anyone questioned him he could say he, more accurately she, was sick the day the photo had been taken. Satisfied with the documents and explanations, he stepped into the aisle, disembarked, and went to the customs line inside the terminal.

  He crept forward, closer and closer, almost there. The traveler in front of Mackenzie had just finished with the customs agent. At the final stretch he found it difficult to control the jitters and keep his nerves in check. Damn this heat. He ran a hand over his face, worried the heavy make-up, applied over the thin facial mask, had started to run. He struggled to appear calm, cool, and collected. He had to make it through or all of his efforts would be in vain, worse he’d go to jail.

  He tapped his foot beneath the counter, willing the customs agent to hurry and clear him through. He desperately wanted to observe the area around him to see if any authority figures searched for a specific passenger. He couldn’t afford to risk any movements which would make him stand out.

  It seemed an eternity before the passport was stamped. The slow ass scrutinizing bastard finally said, “Here you go, Mrs. Thompson, all set. Just go downstairs to claim your luggage and show that form to one of the gentlemen stationed by the exit door. The line doesn’t look very long. Enjoy your s
tay.”

  With teeth gritted and a forced smile, Mackenzie responded, “Thank you so much, I always enjoy my trips to St. Kitts.” Under his breath Mackenzie muttered, “Especially this trip, but why hasn’t Jack shown up yet? It would be even better if Mommy dearest were here but that’s not possible, is it? Nonetheless, my boy Luke will be here.”

  * * * *

  Caitlin attempted to play water volleyball with Chad while holding Alexandra so the little girl could join in the game. At the sound of her name, she swiveled her head, missing Chad’s serve. The ball landed with a splash and sprayed a plume of water at Caitlin and Alexandra.

  Caitlin wiped her eyes and realized who had shouted her name. Linda crossed the heat baked deck but before she reached the edge of the pool, a security guard grabbed her arm and halted her movement. Confused by the scene, Caitlin waded toward the side of the pool. What the hell had happened now?

  She targeted Pam with her eyes and directed Chad. “Chad, take your sister to the shallow area for a few minutes, will you please? Listen to Pam and Chris. I’ll be right back.”

  “What’s wrong, Mom? Where are you going?” Chad questioned.

  His scowl indicated disappointment at the interrupted volleyball game.

  “Nothing’s wrong, honey. I just have to go to the ladies room. I’ll send Dad over to play volleyball.”

  Caitlin swung one foot onto the deck and lifted herself out of the pool. It might not have been the most graceful exit but much quicker than swimming over to the stairs. Caitlin ran to Linda and the guard. “What the hell are you doing? Don’t you know who this is? She used to work here for Chrissakes!”

  The security guard spun toward Caitlin. “Yes, we know Linda, but when she yelled your name, my guard went up. I’m not going to apologize to you or Ms. Sampson, my orders and directives are clear. No one is to get near you or your family. Someone running toward you shouting your name raises suspicion, no matter who it is.” He returned his attention to Linda and continued, “In this case, Ms. Sampson, you’re in the clear. Next time, please notify us of your request to see the Martels.”