Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 21

  TRACKING THE MONEY

  It felt weird driving home from Palo Pinto alone. I kept looking over in the empty passenger seat expecting to see Steven sitting there. It didn't seem right leaving him behind, but there was nothing I could do. There was no motion I could file or appeal I could lodge. The courts had no leniency for defendants who couldn't be trusted to appear for trial.

  I dreaded having to face Steven's mother. She'd be devastated. The long drive home gave me time to try to make sense of Steven's plan to flee just before his trial began. Did he really think he could just hop on an airplane and escape this whole ordeal? I finally decided it was predictable behavior for a naive teenager. If I'd have been in his shoes, I might have done the same thing.

   When I got home, I told Rebekah what had happened and asked if she'd go with me when I told Jenny Caldwell her son was in jail.

  "You didn't tell me there was a chance Steven wouldn't come home," Jenny sobbed.

  "I know. It was a total shock to me too."

  "I can't believe my boy is in jail again. Jails are such horrible places. I'm so worried about him. Do you think they'll mistreat him?"

  "No. There's too much media attention on this case for them to allow any funny business."

  "He must be scared to death."

  "He's a tough kid. He'll be all right," Rebekah said.

  "I don't know."

  "Did he ever mention running to you?" I asked.

  "Yes, his father went to Canada during the Vietnam War to escape the draft. He mentioned doing that a few times, but I thought he was joking. I never thought he would actually do it."

  "Dodging the draft and fleeing to avoid a trial for murder are not exactly the same thing."

  "To Steven they were," Jenny said.

  Steven Caldwell's plan to flee just before trial was the lead story in the Ft. Worth Star Telegram the following morning. While I was staring at the headline and lamenting the events of the previous day, Jodie walked in.

  "I saw the headlines. I couldn't believe it. What a day, huh?"

  I nodded. "To say the least."

  "Well, I've got some good news for you."

  "Really? I could use a little good news. What do you have?"

  "Well, I went to your meeting at the Dallas Naval Air Station yesterday and they agreed to check all their flight logs to see if any military aircraft were near Possum Kingdom Lake on September 10. I should have that report by week's end. I also called all the civilian airports within a hundred-mile radius of Possum Kingdom Lake, as you requested."

  "So, any luck?"

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, I found out that several members of the Confederate Air Force have been using a private airstrip in Weatherford to practice for some of their stunts."

  "Is that right? Did you talk to any of them?"

  "No, but I have a couple names if you want to question them. The airport manager indicated they're usually there practicing on the weekends. He said one of their common flight patterns is to fly over Possum Kingdom Lake on their way to their headquarters in Midland," Jodie replied.

  "Did he say what types of planes they fly?"

  "Mainly old World War II aircraft that have been preserved or restored. There's a Confederate Air Force Museum at Dallas Love Field if you want to go check it out."

  "That's a good idea. I might do that at lunch."

  After Jodie had left, I stopped by Paula's office to fill her in on what had happened in Mineral Wells and to see if there had been any new developments in her case. She told me she had missed a callback from Detective Shaw and there was still no word from the FBI.

  "You know. I could call Mo at the CIA," I said. "He might be able to help us out on this since the case has obvious international connections. Hell, the CIA may be involved somehow. Isn't that what Paul thought?"

  It suddenly dawned on me that Paula’s case was actually a referral from the CIA. so surely they’d be willing to help out. I hadn’t told Paula about the agencies’ involvement because Mo had sworn me to secrecy. I wondered how the CIA fit into the puzzle.

  "That'd be great. I'll take all the help I can get," Paula said appreciatively. "I just need some answers right now. I have no earthly idea what is going on in this case. I feel totally helpless. Cheryl's assets have just evaporated overnight and I haven't been able to do a damn thing about it."

  Paula's frustration concerned me, so I went straight to my office and called Mo at his contact number.

  "Hi, Stan. What's up?"

  "Oh, struggling with a couple murder cases as usual."

  "Yes, I heard about that. One of them is the Cactus Island sighting."

  "You guys have a name for it?"

  "Sure," Mo said. "Whenever there's a major UFO sighting it gets a name. This one is of particular concern since your murder trial is creating so much media attention."

  "I didn't know the CIA got involved in UFO cases."

  "We usually don't, but some cases everyone gets involved in. The government can't afford a general panic over a UFO sighting."

  "Well, if you learn anything that would help me defend Steven Caldwell, let me know."

  "Right. So far we don’t know a whole lot, but the island is somewhat of a mystery. None of our scientists can figure out how the surface of the island was leveled the way it is, and some of the chemical compositions on the island don't make any sense."

  "That's what my geologist said, too, and there's no record of any construction on the island."

  "So I've been told."

  "Anyway," I said, "Cactus Island isn't the reason I called. What I need help with is our other murder case."

  I told Mo about the Martin Windsor case and how his assets were being systematically liquidated in violation of the temporary injunction in place in the divorce proceeding. We talked about the Tobago connection and the similarities between the two cases. He said he'd look into it and see if he could track the money. If he had any luck, he'd give me a call.

  After lunch I stopped by the Confederate Air Force Exhibit at Dallas Love Field. I was particularly interested in the types of planes that were being flown over Possum Kingdom Lake. Most of the planes I saw were small combat aircraft like the Curtis P-40 Warhawk and P-39 Aircobra. None of these planes could have possibly been mistaken for an alien spacecraft. There were some bigger aircraft like the big B-25 Mitchell Bomber and the B-29 Superfortress but even those were clearly conventional looking aircraft that wouldn't likely be mistaken for a spaceship. As I was about to leave, a photograph on the wall of an unusual looking plane stopped me in my tracks. It was the P-38 Lightning. Now this had possibilities, I thought. It didn't look like any plane I'd ever seen before. It almost seemed like two planes had been welded together. This made it appear rectangular. I closed my eyes and imagined seeing that plane at twilight during a thunderstorm. I bought a photograph of it and took it back to the office to show Paula.

  "That is weird looking," Paula said.

  "If that baby flew overhead during a storm what would you think?"

  "I'd freak out."

  "Well, let's hope somebody was flying her to Midland on September 10. Wouldn't that be sweet?"

  "I'll keep my fingers crossed."

  "Oh, by the way, the CIA's been monitoring Steven's case."

  "You're kidding."

  "No, I think the government is worried about a general panic if we prove that Steven actually saw a spacecraft," I said.

  Paula raised her eyebrows. "Then why don't they help us come up with a better explanation of what happened? The military hasn't been busting their ass getting us information."

  "That's for sure. Mo also said he'd try to track Martin Windsor's money. He'll let us know what he finds out."

  "That's good because I'm at a dead end."

  Paula's face grew pale. I thought I knew what she was thinking. If Martin Windsor was actually alive, he might try to take his children. Paula picked up the telephone and dialed a number. She waited a minute and then hung u
p the telephone. "There's no answer," she said as she started to dial another number. "I'll try her on her cell." She put the telephone receiver to her ear and waited. Finally, she hung up. "Damn it! Why doesn't she answer?"

  "Don't panic," I said. "She might just be in the bathroom."

  Paula sighed. "Oh, Stan. What if she's been kidnapped too?"