Graeme spoke for the group. "There are several."
"Where?"
"In addition to the one in your bedroom, Gene found one each in the living room, your bath, the office, Andy's room and on the ceiling fan on the patio."
"Andy's room?" What sick bastard thought he'd learn anything from listening in on a child's room?
"That one and the one in your bath don't appear to have been activated."
"I don't understand. Why? Who would do this?"
"We're working on the why." Graeme glanced back toward the house. "We have a pretty good lead on the who."
Maggie followed Graeme's line of sight to the porch and just that quickly, the air whooshed from her lungs. Her mind raced over chunks and snips of memory from the last few months to the previous two years. From outside the murky fog surrounding her, she heard Graeme then Elliott calling her name.
"What is it, Maggie? What's wrong?" Elliott reached out and rubbed her upper arm briskly.
The breeze suddenly cooled her dampened skin as if she were standing in front of an open refrigerator. "I don't know if I want to go where my thoughts are trying to take me."
"Wherever that is, you won't be alone." Graeme took her left hand in his firm grasp. "We're friends."
His statement comforted her far less than it should have. She thought they'd become much more than that in the last few days. Maybe he'd said that for Elliott's benefit, but it stung none-the-less. Wishing they could be alone, yet knowing it wasn't possible, she steeled herself against revelations and truths. Drawing strength from the two men who'd been brothers to her husband in every sense of the word, she smiled. "I guess we'd better go someplace where we can talk freely. Preferably someplace where we can also have a beer?"
The investigator opened the door to his Durango and said, "Follow me."
* * *
Graeme took three beers, passed them out to Maggie and Elliott, keeping the third one for himself, then joined them at the rectangular, wooden planked table set alongside the outer wall of an eighteen wheeler trailer.
"Who else knows about this place?" he asked the agent.
"Just me and my partner. You're safe as you'll ever be and she's been sound-proofed." He pushed a button and a cover shielding the opposite wall rose to reveal a bank of computer screens showcasing the outside at various angles and surrounding views. "To answer your next question, we can see if anyone gets too close."
Graeme nodded his appreciation for the technology installed and in use. After a swig of his beer, he noticed Maggie staring at the computer screens with eyes the size of forty carat emeralds. He knew he needed to get her talking before she changed her mind.
"Maggie, on Saturday night, you told me you found an obituary?"
"Yes, it was for Harley Jenkins." She dug into her purse and pulled out a folded newspaper article. Carefully, she opened the clipping and slid over to him. "I knew she'd died in a car accident, but I don't know why Wyatt had her obit hidden, unless they did have an affair."
He hated the hell she'd been through, the hurt in her eyes, the weight bearing down on her shoulders. He'd give his eye teeth to have her safe in her home with her little boy, their lives back on track. Passing the slightly yellowed paper to Elliott, he spoke to Gene, "Could you check out the accident and all available information?"
"Sure, first thing."
"What else, Maggie? Back at the house, I got the feeling there was something you wanted to tell us."
She hesitated, looked at her hands, and traced the grain on the tabletop with neatly trimmed nails. "I don't know if there's really anything to tell. I—"
Ever the lawyer, Elliott said, "No one's going to over react, just tell us and we'll check it out."
"For months, maybe as much as a year, before Wyatt died, Trevor was always at the house. He and Wyatt were inseparable, going on trips together both work related and away from the airline. They hunted and fished and worked long hours to bring that old pickup back to life." She took a drink from the bottle, set it back down and worked on removing the label from around the neck. "After a few months, Wyatt started coming home by himself. He avoided Trevor's calls or made excuses for not going out.
"Initially, he spent more time at home in the office on the computer. Eventually, he put a deadbolt lock on the door and kept the only key hidden from me. It was obvious to me something was going on, but he refused to talk about it." She took another drink. Fingers shaking, she peeled off the label and laid it on the table.
"During that time there were two suspicious calls. One was a hang up and the second time, a female voice said, 'Sorry, wrong number'. After that, the home phone rarely rang that wasn't mom or Bridey or the hospital. Then I realized he had two cell phones. I couldn't figure out if he thought I was naïve or just plain stupid."
By now, she picked at a corner of the bottom label, the challenge being to remove the labels from the bottle completely intact. Graeme had seen her perform the same feat during their last summer out on the dock when she, Wyatt and he had spent lazy afternoons together swimming and drinking beer. He remembered she had a stack of labels in a shoebox. Her voice brought him back to the present.
"After the crash and his release from the hospital, Trevor came by the house several times. He replaced light bulbs and played ball with Andy, he even took him to the movies a time or two. As I told you, Graeme, he also came by one evening and borrowed Wyatt's computer to get some files for a joint project they'd worked on."
Elliott sat up in his chair and leaned his forearms on the table. "How long before he brought it back?"
"Oh, I don't know, a week maybe?"
"Wait," Gene said as he scribbled furiously on a legal tablet. "I forgot he was on board the flight that night. I'll need to see those reports."
"You can get them from Joe Webster, too," Graeme said.
"Thanks."
Maggie looked from one to the other, her questioning gaze landing on Graeme. "Is Trevor being on the plane when it went down significant in some way?"
Graeme exchanged a glance with Elliott. "We're just gathering information. Before we can figure out who's behind the bugs at your place and at the ranch, we have to sift through everything."
"Maggie is there anything else you can tell us?" Elliott encouraged.
"No, not really, except . . ."
"What?"
"It's a little creepy that he seems to be everywhere. I mean, like yesterday, Dinah and Ben were coming for hot dogs. I thought I was alone but, when I took dishes and silverware in to set the table, Trevor was standing in the middle of the living room by the couch. Scared the crap out of me."
Graeme knocked his chair over backwards as he pushed away from the table. He wished the man within arm's length so he could pound in his smug face, but reined in his temper for Maggie's sake. "Did the son of a bitch have an explanation for breaking into your house?"
"He said he was on his way to see Andrew and he wondered how I was doing. Apparently, I'd left the door standing open."
"I'll just bet he was going to the ranch."
"Graeme, settle down," Elliott said in a tone meant to calm his brother. To Maggie he asked, "Is there anything else you can think of?"
"Yes, and I guess now I know why I had the heebie jeebies." She finished removing the larger label, laying it flat on the table below its smaller twin. "While there, he used my bathroom and I found him messing with the ceiling fan on the patio. He said he tightened a loose bulb." She picked up both labels and wadded them in her palm then tossed the bits of paper into the trash can. Leveling her gaze on the three men, she downed the remainder of the more-than-likely warm beer and asked, "Okay, so now what? Do we call Ben?"
The investigator spoke first. "It's too early yet to involve local law enforcement. I'll work on these couple of things I've written down and get back to you ASAP."
"Good." Elliott motioned to Graeme. "I'll firm up the plans from our earlier conversation while you move Maggie and her friend out of the house.
"
Graeme nodded in agreement. "Sounds good to me."
"Well, it sounds like crap to me." Maggie doubled her fist and pounded the table. "I'm not letting Trevor Riordon or any other asshole move me out of my home."
"It's for your own safety." He read between the lines of her meaning to include any one of the three of them sitting in this trailer. "It's the only plan we've got."
"Then I suggest you come up with another, "she said, crossing her arms across her chest, shutting him down. "Because I'm not leaving."
* * *
Back at the house, Maggie walked in ahead of Graeme. Even though the situation she found herself in had wrung the last drop of energy from her, she still needed to talk to Dinah. It was a blessing Ben's SUV was parked out front. The investigator said not to alert law enforcement yet, but she'd feel better if he knew. She followed Dinah's voice coming from the breakfast nook.
"But it is my business, Ben. Maggie's my best friend and I'm going to tell her what I think."
"I'm just saying before you go around accusing people, you need to have your ducks lined up."
"I've been playing the field long enough to know a creep when I see one. I told her that much last night."
Maggie led Graeme into the room. Ben faced the door and saw them first. He stood to shake hands with Graeme.
Grinning, he said, "Well, guess I can cancel the APB."
"You had me worried, kid, where've you been?" Dinah's chair scraped the floor as she stood to hug Maggie. "Where's the rugrat?"
"Oh, he went home with Mom and Ed. I think the three of them were having separation anxiety." It felt ridiculous spinning tales to Dinah and the county sheriff, but she continued in case someone was listening. "As for Graeme and me, we've been at the home improvement center. There are some things I want to do to the yard now that I've moved back home. Come out with me and I'll show you what I'm thinking about."
She turned to leave the room then, as if she'd had an afterthought, said, "Ben, come with us. Maybe you and Graeme can move the birdbath for me." She didn't know if they could talk safely when there weren't any devices found in the kitchen area, but it seemed a better idea to be outside and as far away from the house and patio as possible.
After they'd told Dinah and Ben some of what they knew, the two men settled into a discussion about the investigation. Maggie picked up a few pieces of the broken plate from last night's dinner that she'd Frisbeed across the yard.
"I should've known something was up with you when you walked into the room."
"Really? Was it something I said?"
"Yes, plus the fact that normally you barely acknowledge there's an area beyond the patio. Your thumb is greener than mine, but to actually work in the yard in the summer? Please."
"I know." Maggie tried to muster up a grin, but failed. "I must've missed the class on how to deal with someone listening in to my private life."
"I'm just trying to lighten the moment for you."
"Yes, that's what you do and I love you for it." She managed a genuine smile for her best friend. "Right now, though, I'm scared and seriously pissed, and not handling the situation well."
"I haven't mentioned this before, but now I'm thinking it may be significant."
"What is it?"
"Trevor's been to my house twice that I know of since you moved."
"What did he want?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Ben said as he and Graeme joined them again. "What did he say?"
"Nothing much other than he was worried about Maggie and did I think she'd be all right living out here all alone."
Ben shifted, resting his hand atop the gun holstered at his hip. "Did you let him in?"
"No. We talked on the porch."
"Was he alone?" Graeme pressed.
Dinah looked from man to man. "Okay, now you're scaring even me."
"That isn't my intention," Graeme said. "But I need to know anything you remember."
"There were two men waiting in the car. I couldn't see them very well, but I did notice a distinctive contrast between the two."
"What was that?" Ben interjected.
"The one in the front seat was fair and had white-blond hair, the one in the back was Hispanic."
Maggie's sharp intake of air at Dinah's description almost choked her and she coughed to clear her throat. Surely Di was mistaken or she'd heard incorrectly. "Graeme could that be --"
"Honey, it's a description that could match a hundred people."
"But, I . . ." She let her protest die, her train of thought derailed. Well, her day had certainly gone to hell in a hand basket, as the saying went, and her brain had hit a wall.
Graeme took her hand. The look in his deep ocean blue eyes said either he understood where she was coming from and he might love her just a little or he was sorry she was such a sad loser and he regretted seeing her again. "Hey, how about putting on a pot of coffee?"
"Sure. Would you and Ben like something to go with it?"
"Yes, but if it's too much trouble, don't mess with it. Okay?" He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. "Everything's going to work out, Maggie, I promise."
"I know." She smiled back at him with much more confidence than she felt. She knew he meant what he said and he'd keep her and Andy safe to the best of his ability. She wished . . . there was something she should tell him. Something she needed to remember. As she and Dinah went into the kitchen, she fervently hoped she could recall the elusive thought sooner than later.
Chapter 16
Graeme enlisted Ben's help to move the bird bath to the far right corner of the back yard. After he'd filled it with water, he'd had enough time to think a couple of things through. Gene, Elliott's investigator, said to wait to inform local LEO's until they had more information. In Graeme's opinion it was a no-brainer to have the sheriff on your side and who better to know the happenings in the surrounding area. While Maggie and Dinah were still inside, he pumped Ben for information.
"Elliott said Harlan wouldn’t release Maggie’s truck to the DA’s investigators. How’s he coming with his inspection”
"When I talked to him earlier today, he said he'd probably know something or nothing by tomorrow."
Graeme gave a half-laugh. "Old codger always did think he belonged on the Blue Collar Comedy Tour."
"True, but there's nobody better at diagnosing car problems. He'll be thorough."
"Yeah, I think it was my sophomore year, he taught the auto shop class. One of his favorite things was to sabotage the project of the week and we had to find the problem for our grade."
"Glad he's doing the looking, then," Ben agreed. "He'll be able to spot the trouble right off the bat."
"Hey, guys?" Dinah shouted from the back door. "Coffee's ready."
"Be right there," Graeme answered her, then spoke to Ben in a low voice. "I'm not leaving Maggie and Dinah here alone tonight, but in the morning, I'm meeting with Elliott and Andrew to discuss recent discoveries I made in D.C. I'd like you to be with us when we discuss the info."
"Call me with the time and place, I'll be there."
Graeme followed Ben into the house. Maggie had made sandwiches along with coffee and had everything on the table in the breakfast room. He hated the worry lines etched across her forehead and longed to erase them, along with the tautness in her shoulders. She looked as if she might snap in two at the slightest touch. She reached for the pottery salt and pepper shakers, her hands trembling so that they clattered onto the counter as she dropped them.
He settled his hand over hers, placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, whispering in her ear, "I'm going to figure this out and make it right, Maggie. I promise."
She looked into his eyes and softly answered, "I know."
Her outer demeanor appeared more calm and relaxed as they went in to join Dinah and Ben. While they ate, visited, and put on their show for whoever might be listening, he fervently hoped he'd be able to keep his promise.
; * * *
The next morning, Graeme followed Maggie and Dinah to the ranch. They met with Bridey while he went through the house to the finished out second floor of the barn. All the usual suspects were there along with two he hadn't expected to see. Joe Webster sat next to Andrew at the poker table, his briefcase open, spewing multiple stacks of paper. Standing next to the solitary window at the opposite end of the narrow room, Gabriel Hardison leaned against the paneling, hands in his front pants pockets, long legs crossed at the ankles. His eyes were closed, and anyone who didn't know him would think he was asleep on his feet. Graeme knew from personal experience, the man never missed a thing.
The last time Graeme had seen the large lanky man, they'd been in close proximity to an exploding IED. Even though injured himself, Gabe had carried Graeme to the waiting Med-Evac helicopter and safety. He hugged his friend without embarrassment due to their bond.
Gabe ended the alpha embrace with a punch to the arm. "Are you ever going to stay out of trouble?"
"Are you ever going to stop busting my chops?"
"Not likely."
"Ditto." Graeme shook his head. "I'm glad you're here anyway."
"I considered seeing if you'd sink or swim, but you know I'd hate to watch you flounder."
"Funny man. Did Web fill you in on what we have so far?"
Webster spoke up, "I've made the introductions, but thought we'd give everybody the rundown at once."
Graeme stood before the dry erase board Elliott had set up on an easel and wrote the highlights of what they knew so far. He listed Wyatt's crash, his alleged overdose, the District Attorney's investigation of missing morphine on Maggie's shift at the hospital, and the discovered listening devices. As he added the problem with Maggie's truck, his cell rang. The call was from Ben.
"Sorry I'm late getting there," he said. "I stopped by Garrity's shop."
"Is it something or nothing?" Graeme held his breath waiting for Ben's answer.
"He said you're going to want to see what he found."
Graeme expelled pent up air along with, "Shit." He glanced from face to face, then said, "I'm on the way. In the mean time, see if Harlan remembers if he made any repairs to the truck in the last two years."
9 Ways to Fall in Love Page 43