“Ms. Brighton, from what we could gather, packed up her parents’ belongings in the father’s SUV. She was going to drive it back to New Jersey. Unfortunately, she was struck by lightning in the driveway on the day she was scheduled to leave. A UPS driver on the road at the time and two neighbors, the Longhursts, saw it happen and called 9-1-1, and Ms. Brighton was taken to the hospital. Ken and I at that point thought, and thought is the operative word here, that we could enter the house, citing an emergency, but in the end we had to back away and, as he said, our passes had been rescinded. The neighbors are on watch, as well as the Longhursts. It was simply too risky to try anything else. We found out all of this on the news and from the local paper,” Davis said.
The four handlers waited for Metcalf to respond to the information they had provided.
When he did, he asked, “Where do we currently stand?” There was so much ice in the man’s voice that the four handlers inwardly winced.
“The house in Palm Royal is now empty, but we have to assume that the neighbors are still on watch. Angela Powell arrived the day after Lucy Brighton got out of the hospital, and they packed up and left. The neighbors, Adel and Bud Longhurst, are front and center in all of this. It appears they’ve taken over the care of Ms. Brighton. Powell drove the father’s car all the way to New Jersey. They stopped overnight, but that’s all we know,” Henderson said. “Ken and I put it together. Via Skype.”
“Yesterday, we’re told, two FBI agents from the Miami office visited the Kingston building site in Miami. In less than two hours, Luke Kingston, Jr., was on a flight to New Jersey,” Davis said. “As you know, sir, the locals do not like sharing information. We were lucky we got what we did.”
“We also know that Luke Kingston went straight to the Brighton house. Today they departed the premises, locked it up tight, and are now in a farmhouse in Freehold. We did an Internet search, and it looks like Lucy Brighton bought the fifty-five-acre farm and has moved in. She took everything from her studio. A packing firm came in and packed up everything and took it away. Don and I were about to check the house when we got the call to come here instead.”
Julian Metcalf stood. He took a moment to shrug his broad shoulders and shoot his cuffs. He looked at Henderson and Ellie Carter and said, “Take the next shuttle back and give me a report on the house the minute you check it out.” He looked over at Ken and Charlene. “You two go with Don and Ellie and stake out the Freehold place. Since there is no electronic security at either the main house or the farmhouse, you shouldn’t have any problems. If you run into a problem, squelch it by whatever means necessary. If you need help, request it. I’ll send a new team of agents to Palm Royal. There are many ways to secure a warrant, and I know them all.”
Metcalf leaned across the table and, in a normal-sounding voice, said, “I want this wrapped up as soon as possible, with little to no blowback. The reassignment schedule is due in two weeks, and there are four openings in Egypt and Caracas.”
The door opened and closed. The four agents looked at one another without saying a word. Metcalf’s warning was all too clear. “Screw this up, and you’re on the first plane to Caracas or Egypt.” The four handlers knew everything in the room was recorded, so they wisely remained silent, but their eyes and expressions spoke volumes.
Outside, in the brisk October air, the four agents/handlers clustered around their respective rental cars.
Ken Blevins, senior in the group, said, “We’ll talk on the plane.”
Chapter Seventeen
The clock on the range said the time was 6:15 when Luke entered the house from his run. The phone was ringing, but no one picked it up, so it went to voice mail. Lucy woke just as Angie locked the door behind Luke to keep out the snow that was spiraling behind him.
“It’s snowing!” Luke said as he ran his fingers through his damp, curly hair. He hung his jacket on a hook by the back door, then shook his whole body like some big shaggy sheepdog. “It’s not just flurries now. It’s actually snowing.”
“Well, we certainly have enough food to weather a blizzard. When I parked in the garage, I saw a snowblower. Guess who gets to try it out first! In case you’re interested, I’m hungry, and Lucy just woke up. And it’s time for the frozen peas,” Angie said, opening the freezer.
Luke snatched the frozen vegetables out of Angie’s hand and sprinted to the family room. Lucy was indeed awake and squirming in the chair.
“How does it feel now?” Luke asked, his expression one of concern.
Lucy tried to smile. “It aches, but the pain is mostly gone, so that’s a good thing. Even I can see that some of the swelling has gone down. How long did I sleep?”
“A few hours. I just went for a run, and it’s snowing out now. I was going to start on dinner. I hope you’re hungry. Do you need another pain pill?”
“I am hungry, but no hurry. I don’t want any more pain pills. I’ll just take some Advil. I don’t like taking drugs unless I absolutely have to. Who called?”
“I let it go to voice mail,” Angie said. “Luke came in, and I just couldn’t get to the phone. I’ll check it now, while Chef Luke starts our dinner.” She winked at Lucy, who grinned from ear to ear.
Lucy looked up at Luke, the grin still on her face. It was all Luke needed to rush to the kitchen to prepare his new love’s dinner.
With Luke out of earshot, Angie said, “Yep, I think you got that guy wrapped up.”
Lucy just smiled as she snuggled into the deep recliner, her thoughts skittering all over the place. She watched and listened to Angie as she went through the process of checking the voice mail. At least she now knew the phone had voice mail. The smile left her face as she saw Angie’s eyes pop wide, then saw how she clenched her teeth.
“What?” The one word exploded from Lucy’s mouth so loudly, Luke ran in from the kitchen.
“That . . . that was Toby. He said he was running late on his deliveries and just hit your street, and he said there was a man and a woman going into your house! He said he was standing on the stoop of the software guy, waiting for him to open the door, and he saw them clear as a bell. He said they were driving a blue PT Cruiser. He said he turned his truck around and started back up the street to pretend he had a delivery on your side of the street. He wanted to see if any lights went on in the house. None did, but he said he thought he saw what looked like a flashlight’s beam on the second floor. He wants us to call him back to tell him if he should call the police. What should we do, Lucy?”
Lucy looked up at Luke. “What should we do, Luke?”
“Tell him to call the police,” Luke said. “By the time they get there, the intruders will probably be gone. Then tell Toby to get out of there.”
Angie’s hands were shaking so badly, she had two false starts before her call went through. When Toby picked up, she blurted out Luke’s decision.
“When you didn’t call me right back, I went ahead and called the police. They’re on the way, and the people are still in the house. I hope I did the right thing.”
“You did, Toby. You did. But you need to get out of there or else move farther away, where you can watch what’s going on. Keep this line open, and I’ll stay on the phone.”
“He called the police. They’re on the way. You heard my side of the conversation.”
“Tell him to get the license plate off the Cruiser,” Luke ordered.
Angie relayed Luke’s message. “He says he already did that. He said he even gave it to the cops when he called it in.”
“This is rush hour. By the time the cops get there, whoever is in my house will be gone. I just know it, and just my luck,” Lucy said.
“Maybe not,” Luke said soothingly. His forced tone did nothing to calm Lucy’s already frayed nerves.
“Dammit! Toby said they’re coming out of the house, and there is no sign of the cops. He said he can’t hear a siren, either. He said they aren’t carrying anything, so they didn’t steal anything. Okay, they’re in the car, and the
y’re moving. He wants to know if you want him to ram his truck into their car. He said he’ll probably get fired if he does that, but he’s willing to do it.”
“No, for God’s sake, no!” Lucy bellowed. “We can’t involve him any more than he is already.”
“Toby wants to know if he should follow them.”
“No!” Luke shouted. “Just tell him to get the hell out of there.”
Angie relayed the message. “Okay, he’s leaving and will call us back. He’s going to park around the corner and wait to see what happens. He said he’s going to take a package out of the back and walk down the street.”
“No, no, no! Tell him not to do that. Did he call in anonymously, or did he give his name?” Luke asked.
“Anonymously at first. Both, actually. He said he got scared and gave up his name so they would take him seriously. Okay, he’s leaving. He’s driving by the house now, and the cops are walking around with flashlights. There are two of them. One is heading for the back. He’s out of sight now. That’s it,” Angie said, breaking the connection.
“If Toby is right, and they . . . whoever they are . . . headed to the second floor, we know they know I know about the safe and probably removed everything. How long before they find their way here?” Lucy asked.
“Since you didn’t tell anyone in the neighborhood you were relocating, how can they possibly know you’re here?” Luke asked as he smacked one balled fist against the other.
“Doesn’t the FBI have carte blanche in things like this? They can tap into your phone records, follow your credit-card purchases. We stopped for gas and charged it. They have eyes and sources everywhere,” Angie said. “Let’s face it. We wouldn’t even be thinking in terms of the FBI if you hadn’t told us they showed up at your construction site. Now they probably know you’re here. Where does all of this leave us?” Angie asked, fear ringing in her voice.
“I knew I should have called them before you gave me those pills. Hand me the phone, Angie. I’m going to do it right now.”
“Shouldn’t we discuss this a little more?” Luke asked.
“I think we’ve discussed it a little too much already. We’re past the stage of discussing.” Lucy reached for the phone in Angie’s hand.
“What’s the number, Luke, the one for the Red Bank office? You looked it up earlier.” Luke repeated it to her, and without a moment’s hesitation, Lucy pressed in the digits that would connect her to the Red Bank field office of the FBI.
When an operator came on the line, Lucy identified herself and asked for an agent to come to the farm as soon as possible on a matter of the utmost importance. She listened a moment and said, “No, I do not care to discuss this matter on the phone. If you don’t want to hear what I have to say, then you can read all about it in the New York Times tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, depending on how quickly they can get a reporter here, and I’ll be sure to mention how helpful you people at the FBI are. I am sure that they will be very anxious to obtain an interview with the founder and CEO of IBL. Yes, that IBL. You realize, of course, that you are public servants, and that I and my fellow citizens pay your salaries? Of course you do. I’m hanging up now.”
“Wow! That was good, Lucy.”
“Yeah, except for the threat,” Luke drawled.
“You mean the Times? That wasn’t a threat. That was a statement of fact. They have been trying to get an interview with me for the past six months. How’s dinner coming?”
“Oh, it’s coming,” Luke drawled again. “Fifteen minutes, and we’ll be chowing down on the best shrimp scampi you’ve ever eaten.”
Angie looked down at the watch on her wrist. “But you’re still standing here.”
“Yes, I am. The frozen peas have two more minutes to go. Double duty is how I look at it. So, make that seventeen minutes till dinner. It would be nice if you’d set the table.”
“I can’t. I’m waiting for Toby to report in.” Angie laughed. “Go ahead. I’ll take the bag off and take Lucy to the lavatory. Get cracking so we can eat. With our luck, that FBI team will show up just as we sit down to eat.”
Dinner was every bit as good as Luke said it would be. They were just getting ready to start on the dessert Luke had whipped up when Lucy instructed Angie to go around the house and turn every light on.
“Even all the outside lights. In case the agents can’t find us in the dark, since we are two miles off the highway. You did say it was snowing out, didn’t you, Luke?”
“Yes, it’s coming down pretty hard now, and the ground and bushes are covered,” Luke said, peering out the kitchen window. He sliced the pie and served everyone.
Angie poured coffee. “We’re lit up like a Christmas tree. I think they’ll be able to see all the lights a mile away.”
It was just shy of nine o’clock when the front doorbell chimed to life. Both women looked at Luke and said, “Showtime!”
Luke hurried to the front door to answer it while Lucy and Angie remained in the kitchen. The women looked at one another as they strained to hear any conversation coming from the front of the house. They could hear conversation but couldn’t make out what was being said.
Luke entered the kitchen a minute later, followed by two men wearing heavy outerwear. They looked angry and sullen. No doubt, Lucy thought, they had been pulled out of a nice, warm, comfortable office. She didn’t care.
Luke took the initiative and introduced everyone. “I checked their credentials, Lucy. They’re who they say they are. Have a seat, gentlemen. Coffee?” To his surprise, both men accepted the offer of coffee. Angie moved over to the counter to get it.
“This is my story. These are my friends. First off, they have nothing to do with any of this. They’re here trying to help me. Aren’t you going to write this down?” Lucy asked.
Special Agent Brad Gerrison patted his pocket. “It’s recording.”
“Well, in that case, here we go.” Lucy spoke quickly and concisely for a full forty-five minutes. She barely stopped the whole time to take a deep breath, but she did watch both agents carefully, trying to figure out if they believed what she was telling them. When she finally wound down to what had just transpired via Toby’s phone call, she said, “And here we are.”
Special Agent Jim Restin leaned his elbows on the kitchen table and stared directly into Lucy’s eyes. She didn’t blink. “So, what you’re saying is, the people who died in the Florida car crash are not your parents, but people masquerading as your parents. Is that correct?”
“Yes, that is correct. Right this moment, I can’t prove it, but I think that in a day or so, I can. As odd as this may sound, I have my real mother’s baby tooth, and it will have her DNA on it, and it can be compared to that of the woman who died in the car crash. Even though the couple was cremated, I was told that often there are tooth fragments in the deceaseds’ ashes.” As an afterthought, she added, “They’re in a safe place.”
“And you say you secured the contents of both safes.”
“Oh, yeah, and we covered our asses on that, too, Special Agent Gerrison. We sent off a letter to two different lawyers to hold for us in case anything goes awry,” Luke lied with a straight face.
“Are you telling me your agents in Florida didn’t tell you about all of this?” Angie asked, suspicion ringing in her voice.
“No, ma’am, they did not. This is the first Agent Restin and I are hearing about this.”
“Are you going to call the local police in Edison about the break-in at my house? They were given the license-plate number of the car.”
“We will check on it all, ma’am. Let’s go over some background again. Is there anything else that makes you think the people you say were masquerading as your parents are not your parents?” asked Agent Gerrison.
“Like I told you, my father is a renowned heart surgeon. You can Google him and see for yourself. There is no way on this earth my father would not have treated a man suffering from a heart attack, the way those people said he did. Think about i
t. The reason the man posing as my father didn’t offer to help was that he’s not a damn doctor. Even an idiot can figure that out. Plus, those people did not mingle. In fact, from all accounts, they barely lived there. The one time I went to visit them, I knew that something was off, wrong somehow. They couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I was only there for eleven hours, and I slept for six of them. And yes, they more or less looked like my parents, but cosmetic surgery can work miracles. They are not my parents. Were not my parents,” Lucy said adamantly.
Agent Restin blanched at the intensity in Lucy’s voice. “If the people in Florida weren’t your parents, where are your real parents? Do you suspect something? Or do you know something that will help us locate them?”
“If I did know, do you think we’d all be sitting here having this conversation? I don’t think so. I don’t know. This is just my opinion, but I think my parents are/were spies of some kind. My father had the perfect cover. He traveled all over the world, operating on people. My mother went with him most of the time because she’s a doctor, too. I think the house in Florida and the one I lived in in Edison were what spy novels call safe houses. When you see the safes built into the floor in both houses, and we show you the contents, I think you’ll come to the same conclusion. Why else would there be a box of false documents and all that money? Don’t forget all that artillery, either.”
Luke weighed in. “You’re the FBI. Can’t you find them?”
“No crime has been committed,” Agent Gerrison said, looking over at his partner.
“That we know of,” Angie said forcefully.
“It’s not illegal to have fake passports and driver’s licenses that are locked up. It’s when they’re used that it becomes a crime,” Restin said.
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