Desperate Measures

by Cindy Cromer

  In the message, Laura expressed her sympathy regarding the circumstances that had occurred over the last few days. She notified Caitlin that she had a family emergency and would be leaving the island for Miami on the afternoon flight. If it was convenient, she could meet her at the site this morning at 9:30 a.m. If the time was not acceptable for Caitlin, Laura promised to call when she returned from her unexpected trip to the United States. She then instructed Caitlin to take the measurements and pictures she needed of the future site of CSM, Caribbean. They could finalize any details or questions with the owner later on.

  Caitlin leaped out of her chair and shouted out loud. “Perfect! Now’s my chance to get done what I need to. My two watchdogs are at the hospital. I just need to take a few pictures, send them to the architect, and I can finalize the deal. I better make a phone call first to see if there’s any change.”

  * * * *

  NYPD Sergeant Ben Regis made a ritual of arriving an hour before his duty started at 7:00 a.m. Thirty years old and ambitious, he had goals to rise high into the ranks, making chief. He enjoyed the quiet time before the shift change. It gave him the opportunity to review the reports from the evening so he could be an effective leader and assign the follow-up needed by his crew. He reviewed the hand written report from Stan Lipton.

  Something nagged in the back of Ben’s mind about the location of the victim; he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Giving the report a closer look, he logged onto his computer hoping to find further details in the electronic report, he found nothing.

  Ben yelled into the outer office. “Lipton, I need to see you now!” The incoming and outgoing officers shrugged.

  Ben called all of the officers together. “Anyone know about this Jane Doe found at JFK and brought to Jamaica Hospital?”

  The officers shook their heads. No one knew anything, nothing about the woman or Stan’s whereabouts. The only thing they were concerned about was getting their shift done and over with. No one gave a damn anymore, except him. Instead of assigning someone else to revisit the hospital, he’d do it himself. He had a feeling that this was going to be a big one. The FBI had surveillance at the airport. Could have something to do with that and might earn him a promotion.

  Ben left a message for his lieutenant, notifying him that he’d be out in the field following a lead on a case at the airport. Ben realized that if he expected to advance his career in the department, he’d need to delegate more. His time for hands on investigations would be limited.

  He drove as fast as he could to Jamaica Medical Center, hoping to catch the doctor on duty last night. He asked a few questions and raced down the hallway, fortunate to catch Dr. Bridges before the man left the hospital.

  Ben held his badge out, ready for presentation. “Dr. Bridges, I’m Sergeant Regis. I have a few questions about the woman who was brought in last night from the airport.”

  Dr. Bridges stopped and spun around with a look of annoyance on his face. “I’ve spoken to the officer last night, there’s not much more to tell you at this point. The woman has no ID and apparently ingested some sort of sedative. The lab results should be in shortly. My shift is over, so you’ll need to speak with the next doctor on duty.”

  As the doctor prepared to retreat, shouting erupted from a nearby room and a nurse rushed toward them. “Doctor, the woman from the airport is awake, as I’m sure you can hear. She’s demanding to know why she’s here and what happened. The last thing she remembers is being in the airport waiting to depart for St. Kitts.”

  Ben’s recollections kicked into high gear. St. Kitts was one of the flights on the FBI’s radar, along with Nevis. They were searching for some man named Yates.

  Ben, in a commanding manner that rivaled the pretentious Dr. Bridges, grabbed the doctor’s arm. “This woman may be part of a federal investigation and I need to question her now! I don’t want to jeopardize her health, so do your thing and let me in there ASAP.”

  After a quick examination, the doctor motioned Ben into the room. He authorized the questioning.

  “Hello, I’m Sergeant Regis. Can you tell me your name?”

  “Of course. I’m not senile, my name is Mabel Thompson.”

  “Can you tell me the last thing you remember about yesterday?”

  “That’s where it becomes confusing. I checked my luggage and waited at the gate for my flight. Another elderly woman sat down next to me. She was very nice. I started to cough a little, and she got me a cup of tea. That’s all I remember, until waking up a few minutes ago. Oh, my legs are stiff!” Mabel complained

  Ben put a gentle hand on Mabel’s shoulder to comfort her. “Stretch out and get comfortable, Mrs. Thompson. You’ve had a heck of a night.”

  She patted his hand. “Thank you, you have very kind eyes.”

  Ben heard his name called from the doorway. The doctor held out a sheet of paper with Laboratory Report written on the top.

  “You rest for a few minutes. I’ll be right back. I need to ask you some questions so we can find out what happened to you.” Mabel settled herself against the pillows, grabbed the remote control, and flipped through television stations.

  Ben conferred in the hallway. “What have you got, Doctor?” Ben asked, eager to hear the lab results.

  Dr. Bridges recited the findings of the toxicology scan without provoking a confrontation of authority. “She ingested a high level of a sedative called Luminal, otherwise known as Phenobarbital. No long term effects other than sluggishness and a slight headache.” The doctor flipped through the chart and added, “She had no personal articles on her when she was brought in, and apparently she’d been robbed and tied up in a bathroom stall. In my report, I noted ligature marks around her ankles, knees and wrists.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate your cooperation.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m sure the incoming staff can answer any other questions you may have.”

  Ben entered Mabel’s room once again with his notebook ready. “How are you doing? I’d like to get back to my questions. Are you up to it?”

  “I’m just fine, ask away. You’re about as nice as the man who called me from the airline.”

  “A man called you from the airline? When was this and why?” Ben knew he was rushing her and forced himself to slow down, so he wouldn’t miss a vital detail.

  “It was last week. He wanted to know if I knew where to go for a wheelchair. We got to chatting for a while, and I told him how I often visited my sister Bernice in St. Kitts since both of our husbands have passed on.”

  Frantic to record every word, Ben scribbled in his notebook and at the same time kept eye contact with Mabel. He needed her to feel comfortable and open. “I want to back up for a minute. You were going to see your sister Bernice. What’s her last name?”

  “Willis, Bernice Willis, she lives just outside of downtown Basseterre and has a wonderful view of the water from her house.”

  “Do you remember the name of the man who called you from the airline?”

  Mabel shook her head and frowned. “No I don’t, but come to think of it, I was surprised by his call.” Mabel recited the phone conversation with the American Airline representative. She ended her statement with a rueful comment. “No one has ever done that before, he seemed overly nice, if you know what I mean.”

  Ben closed his notebook. “Yes, I know what you mean.” Not adding that the ones who seemed overly nice were the nastiest bastards in the world. He concluded the interrogation. “I’ll let you rest, I’m sure your head hurts quite a bit, and you’re still sleepy. Here’s my card, if you remember anything else, please call me. I’ll come back to see you later in the day. I may have a few more questions.”

  “But wait, aren’t you going to ask me about the nice lady who brought me the tea, don’t you want to know what she looked like?”

  Ben looked at her. “Mabel, I already know the answer to that question. She looked very similar to you, didn’t she?” With
that question, Ben broke every rule in the handbook. He not only jumped to conclusions, but he led the witness.

  With a short labored intake of breath, Mabel asked, “Why yes, how did you know?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say more, Mrs. Thompson, but once this investigation moves along, I’ll answer all your questions.”

  Ben left the hospital and speed dialed FBI Agent Rich Gilbert. He knew Rich was leading the St. Kitts/Nevis/New York case. Ben’s professional integrity took precedence over his own career advancement. He went with his gut instincts again. They hadn’t let him down yet. Ben contacted the FBI before his own lieutenant.

  * * * *

  The text message sent, Mackenzie stared through the copse of trees. He leaned his head against a sprawling pine, laptop computer propped on his thighs. Obtaining any electronic signal, cell-phone or computer, was a miracle up in the rainforest, not to mention all of the other good fortune that had, so far, gone his way. His e-mail notified him that the message had been opened. Mackenzie knew, pardon the pun, he wasn’t out of the woods but was getting close. Very, very close.

  He packed up and trekked down the mountain. Everything has gone so well, better than he expected. Curiosity burned within him. He wondered about the scene this morning after the drug induced night. They all must be so confused not knowing what the hell happened. A bunch of idiots. The poisoned food, a stunt to fuck with them, represented the power he held. He’d get to Caitlin one way or another. He stopped and peered into his bag. Satisfied with the contents, everything ready to go, he continued on.

  Mackenzie couldn’t get too self-confident, significant risks lay ahead. He refused to let negative energy invade his thoughts and enjoyed the dewy forest surrounding him. He allowed his confidence to surge.

  It’ll work and Caitlin will show up at the warehouse. From the newspaper articles, Mackenzie deciphered the importance of the location. Caitlin made commitments to the Board of Directors and backed herself into a corner with a tight deadline. Before the board approved the purchase, she had to present a detailed budget and convince the financial backers to invest in the expansion as a cost savings initiative.

  Caitlin would jump into action and meet the realtor but Laura Evans wouldn’t show. How could she? She had no idea her privacy had been invaded. It served her right for plastering her name and number all over this island. Mackenzie didn’t know every detail about Laura but had enough information to place her as a pawn in his scheme. He knew the make and model of her vehicle and hacking into her cell-phone to send a phony message presented no challenge to a man with his expertise.

  He also knew Laura sold the Martel’s the lot on which sat the huge expensive house, overlooking the Caribbean Sea and the mountains.

  Enough speculating, Caitlin would come, even if she didn’t, he had a back-up plan. Mackenzie checked his watch as he rounded the last curve on the trail. Seven-thirty a.m., perfect timing to catch the first ferry to Nevis and be back here in time for the final act. The paved street leading to downtown came into view.

  The ferry to Nevis docked fifteen minutes ahead of schedule on this early Sunday morning. Mackenzie walked off the ramp, stepped onto the pier, and headed for the car rental agency.

  “Are you sure you want to rent the truck for just today, Mr. Yates? Your business trips to our island are usually longer than one day, and you reserve a midsize car,” the Nevis rental car agent asked.

  “Yes and please hurry up with the paperwork. Have my vehicle ready as soon as possible.” Mackenzie ordered.

  He mystified the rental agent but couldn’t risk further inquiry. The questions started to annoy him and ignite his anger. Who the hell did she think she was? He’d passed as Mabel and this nobody before him challenged him as Ian Yates. She didn’t know shit, and he didn’t give a damn. He had to get back to the ferry. He tapped his fingers on the counter.

  Minutes later she got her act and paperwork together. “Your truck is outside in the parking lot, you’re ready to go.”

  “I’ll turn the truck in later this evening.” Mackenzie grabbed the keys and left the office.

  He had no intention of returning the truck or the keys. He assured himself that no unforeseen circumstances would arise. He planned to leave the island of St. Kitts in a forty-five foot boat. He’d stolen it once. The owner, a nice enough fellow, kept the keys in a small unlocked compartment near the steering wheel. The people on this island were so damned nice and too trusting. Didn’t they know a killer was on the loose? Well, killer may be an exaggeration, he’d never taken anyone’s life deliberately, but that might change today.

  Mackenzie drove in the direction of the pier with plenty of time to make the return ferry back. He turned on the radio. The island music put him in a good mood. His thoughts put him in a better mood. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, not to the beat of the song, but in anticipation of the day ahead.

  He checked his watch, not much time remained until his sister checked in for the flight. It had all been so simple. He permitted himself a few moments to gloat over his achievements. As if some divine entity intervened, he’d found the woman at Miami International Airport, whose physical appearance earned her a role in the drama. Once the initial contact had been made, all it took was a flash of his blue eyes, some cash, and voila! The woman agreed to check-in with the passport and then disappear. He had no intention of keeping his promise to see her again, or pay the remainder of the money he’d promised.

  Mackenzie’s mind visualized the sequence of events; his biological sister en- route to Atlanta, an imposter would soon present a passport in the name of Constance Spencer and pay cash for a ticket to St. Kitts, and then all hell would break loose. The FBI would chase their tails and business with Lukas could be finalized. Old man Bucklin, in for the surprise of his life, would have to get over the fact that their meeting had been bumped up by a day. With Barry as his guest, Lukas will get the signal when the shit starts hitting the fan. That private jet could have him delivered to St. Kitts in less than an hour, perfect timing.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Scott dozed in the hospital chair, a cell-phone shrilled and he jerked awake. He fumbled for the ringing device and rubbed his sore neck. “Hello,” he grumbled and his voice croaked.

  “Scott, it’s me Caitlin. Any news yet?”

  Scott coughed to clear his throat and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He answered his wife in a voice less chilly than last night. “Hi. Neither one of them is awake yet but Tomas is coming around. About four this morning, he started tossing and turning. I tried to shake him awake but all he did was look up at me and ask where he was and went back to sleep. About 6:00 a.m. the same thing happened but he said a little more. He’s semi alert now.” On the sink, Scott found a travel-size tube of toothpaste, squirted some on his index finger, and rubbed it across his teeth to rid his mouth of the horrible taste of morning breath.

  Caitlin, with impatience evident in her voice, asked, “And, what has he said?”

  “Not that much, and he doesn’t understand what happened. When I asked him if he ate a lot of the food, all he said was he wanted to because the meal was delicious but he kept getting up from the table to check his e-mail. He did say he could see Linda the whole time and she showed no hesitation what-so-ever. She took generous portions of both the soup and grouper for herself and ate heartily. He figured he’d let her eat, see if anything happened, and then chow down later.”

  “Did Linda say anything to suggest how the food may have become contaminated?”

  “Not yet. Drew sent someone over to her house and café last night to search for any, what do you call it?”

  “Luminal!” Caitlin shouted into the phone.

  “That’s right, and the doctor confirmed the food contained it. Drew’s staff questioned Linda’s employees but got nowhere. According to all of them, she made the meal herself. Are the kids still sleeping?”

  “Yes,
they went to bed late last night.”

  “I’ll call you as soon as Linda wakes up, give Chad and Alexandra a big hug and kiss from me. Hopefully I’ll be back later this morning,” Scott promised.

  “Okay,” Caitlin responded but sounded distracted.

  Before Caitlin could hang up the phone, Scott called out to her. “Caitlin, we still don’t know for sure it’s Linda. You need to be careful, do you hear me? Do not leave the hotel and make sure at all times you and the kids are with Chris and Pam. Mitch is there, right?”

  Caitlin cleared her throat then answered, “Yes, Mitch is still here. Don’t worry, Pam and Chris will be at our sides at all times. I’ll talk to you later, love you.”

  * * * *

  Caitlin distorted the truth but reassured herself with the knowledge that she hadn’t totally lied. Chris Dobbs, wrapped in a hotel issued bathrobe, appeared and the sight of him alleviated her guilt. She forced a bright smile and said, “Perfect timing, I need to talk to you.”

  A wary look crossed his face as he asked, “About what and who were you talking to?”

  Chris leaned against the terrace wall. Caitlin relayed a brief synopsis of what Scott told her, then moved on to the real agenda. Chris wouldn’t be happy. She planted her hands firmly on her hips in an effort to exhibit strength, confidence, and intimidation. She’d need those qualities for her next statement. “Now, I need you to help me with something. We need to move fast, before Scott gets here.”

  Chris stepped away from the railing and stood tall in front of Caitlin. “What do you need me to help you with, and what are you keeping from your husband?”