Three_Deception Love Murder

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Three_Deception Love Murder Page 27

by K. J. McGillick


  Together we walked down her deck steps and called out for her, but the only response we got was from Lucy who came bounding through the open door. With Lucy in tow, we roamed the perimeter and ultimately ended up by the lake. Nothing. No Emma. Returning to the front, I rang the bell possibly a little too vigorously out of frustration. Lucy, in response, started panting and barking which caused Jackson to start running his fingers through his hair. Everyone’s anxiety level was at the point of detonation.

  Chavez came to the door laughing. “What is this? Payback for Marino leaning on the bell? He can be such a prick sometimes. But come on. Where’s Emma?”

  “Emma’s disappeared. We searched everywhere. It appears she got up, disarmed the alarm and stepped out onto the deck. Now she’s gone,” I said feeling my heart rate pick up with a twinge of pain. My breaths came quicker and shallower.

  Marino stepped up behind Chavez, and I relayed the same information to him. We decided to separate and each assigned a section to search. Marino retrieved protective footwear and gloves from his car and we spread out each taking a quarter of the property. Having inspected every place she could be, we reconvened, and the consensus was unanimous she was gone.

  “How could anyone get through the system?” Chavez asked checking for any tampering.

  “They didn’t,” Jackson said punching information into his tablet. “It appears her bedroom door was opened at twelve sixteen this morning from the interior and has been open ever since.”

  “Do you think someone knocked on her door and she let them into the house? She’s not that daft even in the middle of the night waking from a deep sleep,” Aunt Mary said as if we had all lost our minds.

  “No, I believe somebody in a camera blind spot watched for an opportunity patiently, and they hit upon it last night. Possibly she had a restless night and wanted some air. She felt safe with everyone in the house and dropped her guard,” Jackson said. “I’ve just alerted Thad and Sam. Paul, round up your people to process the scene, and our guys will work it with you.”

  “I’m putting an APB out on her. Her wheels are still here, so they had to come by car or boat,” Chavez said just returning from the garage.

  Jackson stepped back into the room and said, “I just ran the surveillance footage. No cars came or left the property, but the camera by the dock was disabled, and the other two had something sprayed on the lens. What I can make out from the camera outside on the deck is she got up and passed through the doors. But outside that area, it seems they saw the camera and interfered with it.”

  Calling Thad, I gave him the information we had available. He took charge of putting a hold on her passport, checking rail and bus transit terminals and all private air strips. We put alerts out for her credit cards and bank cards, although her purse and wallet were still in the kitchen. In the event someone forced her to make a bank run, and she asked for a withdrawal slip, we’d capture it.

  After doing a preliminary check, CSU indicated it would take about two hours to record and document everything thoroughly. They were, however, ready to give us an initial report of what probably happened.

  “Hey, if you come over here you can make out where the boat was probably tied up. This line marking looks fresh, and you can see a light sheen of gas or oil on the water as it is dissipating. I would guess it was a somewhat sophisticated craft because no one heard it, and rode low down enough so the cameras and lights weren’t triggered.”

  He picked up. “Follow me. Here, I can only perceive one set of footprints from the dock to the densely wooded area here.” We followed him over to the wooded area. “From there he had an unobstructed shot to watch her room. He was out of camera sight and there’s not a lot of branches to make noise as he made his way to the house. He didn’t leave any evidence behind like cigarettes, candy or gum. Now let’s walk this line to her deck. If he saw her on the deck, it wouldn’t be hard with no moon and this cover to make it undetected to the deck. With only three stairs to make it up there, it would be easy before she saw him.

  “If he walked from the wooded area along the fenced area, indeed it would be easy to shake off and avoid the cameras and motion detectors if you stayed low enough.

  “If your boy got on the deck and dropped her with a Taser that might account for the overturned flower pot. Or he might have done a choke hold, and she kicked it over as she went down. Now follow this line right here from her room back to the dock. You have a few shoe prints in the flower bed where he stepped when he made his way to the deck. And here a deeper indent in the flower bed and the grass from where he exited. I bet the heavier step was made as he carried her and was deeper from the increased load of her body,” he finished.

  “It appears she opened the door to get some air, he saw her and somehow incapacitated her and got her out by boat.” It was incredulous to me she would be so careless and I was angry at myself that I did not insist on a safe house. But in the end, they found the safe house where we had Diana stashed and got to her.

  “That’s about right,” he said as he removed his latex gloves.

  “Cillian, Nick, come here,” Jackson yelled.

  We all gathered in the kitchen where Jackson linked to the State Department’s data base. There in front of us was an official document with Emma’s name.

  “It turns out there was an expedited application made two days ago for a lost passport under Emma’s name. Someone in the State Department walked it through to get it issued yesterday afternoon. It was couriered to an address about sixty miles away toward Boston.

  “Look here, it was requested by Emma and expedited under a family emergency death. Someone initially flagged it under the notes because her passport was used when you two just used it to go to Paris. It looks like they had kicked it up to their supervisor who cleared it without any investigation. They have a driver’s license for identification. Maybe the one stolen when she was at Starbucks? We need to have a chat with those two right away,” Jackson said shaking his head.

  “Your theory is they plan to take her out of the country?” If so it means they had found the accounts and needed her for that reason.

  “That would be my thought,” Jackson said.

  “Why? That woman impersonator is dead. White is dead. Their money machine is virtually shut down,” Chavez replied. “Justice has frozen his assets and anything under Emma’s name that she could not identify.”

  “What if there are offshore accounts tied to Emma or White and they needed her as a signatory, ones we can’t find because they are numbered accounts?” Jackson answered.

  Marino had been quiet and out of the blue said, “Run Roselov for any flights.”

  “I’ll need to punch up and ask Homeland and Immigration to look at that,” Jackson responded.

  “Do it. If Roselov’s got a flight out, let’s see if our guys can track it,” I said.

  Marino looked at his phone text and reported, “We’ve got guys on the way to the address of the delivery of the passport. One of the guys ran the county deed records, and it looks like it is a foreclosed house.”

  “Shit. Probably just a drop off and pick up.” Disappointed, Jackson sat back in his chair and stroked his face. “Hey, people. Let’s not lose track of Mary and Eloise. God knows what they’re up to right now.”

  An hour later, CSU had completed their forensics. They didn’t find fingerprints and took a multitude of photos. They scraped a sample of paint from the dock along with samples of water to test for oil and gasoline. The camera footage was flagged and run through analogs in an attempt to clean it up. A footprint cast was taken, and soon after, they left.

  “People, listen up. I’ve got Roselov and Emma both on a nine p.m. flight to Luxembourg. And guess who else is on that flight?” Jackson slapped the desk and smiled. “Diana Chin.”

  “Whoa, now wait. You have Roselov, Emma, and Diana on the flight? Could we have this all wrong? Are they fleeing the country to start something up in another country?” Marino questioned. “Has
anyone touched base with Alexi to determine if she has contacted Emma? I can get an order to stop Emma and Diana from leaving the jurisdiction. That will put a hold on their passports in case they decide at the last minute to switch flights.”

  “Run with that,” Jackson said. “Get Alexi’s consent. I can give you an affidavit which states they cannot leave the jurisdiction because they are witnesses in a federal case. Good job.”

  “I just placed an emergency request for State and Immigration to put a hold on Emma’s passport and determine why she has two active passports. I flagged Diana’s to detain her as she is a minor with deceased parents and should be under state jurisdiction,” Jackson said. “Tick tock, let’s brainstorm and coordinate.”

  “My people just texted and said the house they left the passport at is abandoned. But a nosy neighbor remembers a courier drove by yesterday and a woman said something was left at the door. Then a few minutes later, a Merc picked it up. So that is a dead end,” Chavez said. “Unless there were random cameras, but it’s a hicksville town, so no such luck.”

  Marino returned after stepping out of the room to call Alexi. He reported Alexi had not heard from Emma and that she would sign the consent. They decided the easiest route would be to go on a material witness hold order. Plans were put in place to obtain that hold immediately. Marino finished his coffee and received a text that the DA agreed to the order, so they headed over to the court to meet up with Alexi. Once signed by the judge, they would distribute the order of stay. Jackson continued with the biometrics department so they could start scanning and searching for Emma and Diana as they entered the airport.

  Now it was just a sit and wait for information to come in or time to pass and get set up at the airport.

  Emma

  THE DRUGS THEY KEPT GIVING me had worn off. My mind felt as if I was wandering slowly through a fog orienting myself as events flashed into focus. Barely able to make sense of what happened, I could not formulate a plan of escape. I could not escape from my captors while at the house, but I might get a break at the airport. The threat of them harming Aunt Mary hung like an ax over my neck. I would be crazy not to think once they emptied the accounts, my purpose would be served, and I would be dead. It wasn’t a matter of when or where, but how they would kill me.

  When my passport was traced, it would look like I fled the country after Jude’s body was found. All the dots will connect to make it look like I had something to gain from his death. The dots would be incorrectly connected, but still connected.

  I alternated between sitting on the floor and walking around for what seemed hours. The drugs fueled my feelings of doom and disaster, and hope evaded me. The doorknob twisted as the lock disengaged and someone finally entered. It was the commander. The soulless, angry, cheated man.

  “Here is your dress and some makeup. We are leaving in a few hours. Rules. I will give you your passport and driver’s license when we get to the airport, and when they ask the purpose of your travel, you say your trip is for pleasure. I will be in a different line than you for passport control and caution you not to try any heroics. I will accompany you on the plane, but we will sit in different rows. Trying to signal anyone will be a grave mistake. Along with us, Mr. Roselov and his ward Diana Chin will also be traveling,” he said.

  “Diana. Thank God she is okay,” I said and then it hit me. “His ward. What do you mean his ward? Her parents just died. She has no connection to him. And Jude told me Roselov was dead.”

  “Dead? Certainly not. I was not aware you knew of her parents’ death. You also must know to keep your mouth shut. You are to act as if you do not know them. Do you understand?” The menace in his posture gave me a chill across my arms.

  “You monster, you killed her parents, and now you’re taking her overseas to what? To sell her into some sex slave trade?” My stomach roiled at the thought and bile started to crawl up my throat.

  “Be quiet,” he bellowed back. “What happens to her is of no concern to you. But rest your dramatic mind, there are considerable promising ventures ahead for her genius talent. Once you complete your part, you will board a plane to Brussels and then back to the States with the knowledge our reach is long. Should you choose to share any of your little adventures, many people will pay for your mistake. Now get dressed. Should you try anything, people are strategically situated at the airport to stop you. My business is my priority, and I would not want to be forced to unleash a reign of hell at the airport for your attempt at escape.”

  He left me alone to run every scenario possible through my mind and none of them ended well. Every plan I had now had an added issue, Diana. Every plan I came up with failed. My mind was spinning, but my body moved robotically. Wash, dress, apply makeup, survive.

  Do I kick and scream and fight? Can I believe there is more than one person involved? Who could I tell at the airport? Does he have someone prepared to unleash terror?

  The door opened and he again appeared. “What should I call you?”

  “Mr. Jamil,” he said. “Come, let us go,” he ordered as he opened the door wider.

  “I will not fight you and will go peacefully if you release Diana. She is a child and does not deserve this life.” I jutted my chin and declared my terms, and now he would have to negotiate with me.

  He slowly shook his head as if I was a petulant child. With lips up-tipped in a cruel smile, he said, “She is a genius who will have a favorable life and will be well compensated for her talent. Your Mr. White did little but exploit her. Under our care, she will grow and prosper. And I may remind you that you are in no position to make demands. Had you used the brains you were given, you would not be here right now.”

  “Here in the US, a child cannot consent to a life of crime,” I replied.

  “Did I ask your opinion? No. Let us go,” he said. “If I need to sedate you I will, however, it will not go well for you.”

  Calmly walking up the stairs, two hulking men who appeared to be security guards joined us. My ideas of a surprise attack to overpower him were out of the question. I am sure the brick wall of men would incapacitate me and punishment would be swift and certain.

  Mr. Jamil pointed toward the car parked in the area to the right as we exited what looked like an old abandoned building. The two security personnel stepped forward. One slipped in the back and the other sat behind the wheel.

  “Put your hands in front of you,” Mr. Jamil instructed.

  “Why?” I wanted to know.

  “You will be restrained until we arrive at the airport. Do it now and no more questions,” he cut me off.

  I held my hands out, and my wrists were encircled with steel handcuffs. Positioned in the back seat next to the security person, he buckled me in, and the door closed. I am sure the door was child proofed cutting off any crazy thought of a moving vehicle escape. Mr. Jamil entered the passenger side and gave the go-ahead signal to the driver who started the car and put his foot on the gas to move.

  In the movies, the heroine would have leaned forward and choked Mr. Jamil with her handcuffs, unlike me who had the misfortune of a head rest between us. The ride to the airport lasted an hour and a half. I was surprised we had arrived at Logan instead of Portland.

  “I want you to keep in your mind at all times I have people strategically placed to unleash hell at the airport should you become uncooperative. I have someone near your house ready to effectuate a deadly gas leak blowing it and everyone in it to hell and back,” he said nonchalantly. “Cooperate, and you and your family will be safe. All I want is my money.”

  “I understand,” I assured him. Could I slip away and go to the bathroom, and get a note to someone on toilet paper? Could I draw a dot on my wrist and if I did would someone understand? Could I make myself throw up at the gate and have emergency people come to help? Or perhaps I could fake a seizure.

  Before I could formulate a plan of any sort, the cuffs were being removed, and we were coming upon the departure ramp. The car came to a stop an
d double parked next to another car. Mr. Jamil exited his door and opened mine. I remained still as he removed the suitcases from the trunk. He came around, handed me my luggage placing the handle in my hand, and pointed to the curbside check-in station. At the curbside baggage check, he walked to the left and motioned me to stand in the line of the second baggage handler. Although it was a longer line than all the others, we waited. When we arrived in front of the agent, I knew why. The agent greeted Mr. Jamil, and he and the agent exchanged a silent conversation with their eyes and nods. I was so screwed. I was relieved of my bag, and we walked toward the doors that swished open in front of us.

  “I want to caution you once again. Should you alert anyone I have people to deal with this. Here is your passport, license, and boarding pass. Let’s go,” he warned as we entered the busy atrium.

  I stared at my passport, it was impossible for me to comprehend how he could pull off such a feat. My passport was in the safe at home. I put it there myself. How did he get it? Was someone from the FBI on his payroll? Did someone break in? But I was the only one with the combination. Had he given me some truth serum that night he kidnapped me, and I took it out? My license. The man at Starbucks.

  As we walked through the atrium, he held my arm guiding me toward the security gate. I scanned the area to see if I could determine who his people were, but with the crowds it was impossible to pick anyone out.

  “We will make a stop for a layover in Zurich on our way to Luxembourg. In Zurich, we will meet someone. Now step in that line that indicates US citizens, and I will go in the other for non-US citizens for passport control,” he motioned with his chin.

  As instructed, I got into the line behind a couple and in front of a family with children. I thought about my options and scanned the area for operatives. The woman in front of me smiled brightly. It would appear we were conversing in the line as buddies if anyone observed us. Ever so quietly, as if she was making friendly small talk she said, “We will wait for you after you pass the passport control. When they give you your passport back, walk over to us and we will walk with you to a Starbucks. You will act as if we are traveling together. When we tell you, you’ll move from Starbucks to the gate. We are your new best friends.”

 

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