"I'm staying right here!" His face showed me he understood. "Officer Marks, there were two men in a car half-a-block down the street, ten minutes ago." I saw this had an impact on both of them.
"Mr. Watson, tell the Chief and I'll go for a walk to the beach, maybe get a look,"
"Marks, we don't want them knowing that we've spotted them. Let the Chief send someone by, but taking a cup of coffee to sit on the front porch would be natural, maybe grab a book too."
"Sounds good. That's exactly what I'll do." He gave me a quick apologetic smile and left the room.
Charlie looked at me. "I wanted to ease you into this, Jenny."
"To hell with easing me in, Charlie. The truth, all of it, or Maddy and I are gone. No more hiding anything or this journey back is over Charlie. There's no way back to trust from lies!" I'd never felt more anger before, didn't know it was within me. Like a powerful blow something else took hold of me in that moment. I wasn't just talking to this man, but equally to myself. It was all or nothing. That's who I am. If Charlie found trouble, we found trouble. I couldn’t hold back the words in my heart. "Together, Charlie. There is no other way!" His arm holding the phone slowly dropped to his side. I expected angry to contort his face, but he smiled as a single tear ran down his face.
Charlie moved slowly toward me, his smile unwavering. "Thank you, Jenny." Then he kissed my cheek and slowly brought the phone back up to his ear. Never breaking eye contact with me he switched the phone to speaker. "Chief, did you hear about the car Jenny spotted?"
"Yes, Jacque wouldn't take no for an answer and is doing a drive by. Jenny can you give us a description?"
"New, but had plates on it. Midsized, light gray, maybe a Ford Taurus or similar. Two guys inside." I pulled two chairs off of the stack and brought them back for us.
"That'll help, thanks, Jenny. Ok, Charlie you'd just woken up?"
"Yes, it was early this morning. I was taped to a chair, felt like a basement, unpainted cinderblock. A third man, maybe in his fifties, educated, not off the streets. Perfect diction no slang and he called me Mr. Watson. He fed me the tale and held the phone when I'd called Jenny." The scene and horror hit me, but not with an urge to run. "He called it plan A, and if I kept quiet, telling Price nothing was suspicious, they'd be gone in a week. He did mention having eyes in Marina."
"Charlie, Edwards here. Any accent, eastern, foreign or possibly southern?"
"He sounded like an English Professor calmly explaining my options and without a hitch that never being found again was simply one of them. I never saw him, he stayed behind me. When the call to Jenny was over they stuck me again. I woke up in the back seat of my truck, beside an abandoned cabin, surrounded by trees. I saved the location on my GPS, near Mission Creek, north of San Jose. I'll crunch some mileage numbers to help create a radius."
"That could help a great deal," Walker said. "Basements aren't the norm in California also."
"Chief, he told me they were interested in Steve Chandler, found the device we'd put on his white BMW and then switched it to a similar car as a decoy to draw me out."
"How'd they know you were looking yesterday?" Edwards asked.
"They were watching Price also, saw us meet. They could have had the decoy set up while Jenny was in the hospital and just waited until I surfaced."
"Charlie, have they contacted this Steve Chandler already?" Walker asked.
"I didn't get the feel a deal was in the works. He mentioned Chandler had a lot of debt they wanted to help him with."
"Why was this guy so forthcoming with all of this information?" Edwards asked.
"Maybe a decoy, or the arrogant son-of-bitch was showing off. We need to get word to Walter Price though, they're here and watching him very closely as well. What I don't know is, if the eyes on him are inside of the company."
"How do we reach him? Posing as a salesman, but salesmen don't usually get a meeting with the CEO," Walker said.
"Charlie, there's an odd email account on my computer? Can we use that?" I asked.
"They had my phone and all the files. The special phone number was on my phone, but the email address wasn't. I can't remember where the email account was written down. If they have it and we use it, all hell will break loose here. They can't know we're still involved."
"Charlie, damn it, you aren't still involved. I know we've been here before, but you've gone above and beyond just talking to me. I'll contact Detective Miller, in San Jose. They could send a New Years stripper to his office with the message or something," Walker said.
"I hope you're not looking for a volunteer, Chief?" I said, realizing I was caught up in it, and for the first time seeing how I could have gotten here. They all laughed and it felt right. "What about a wife, children someone off site that could deliver the message?"
"Jenny's back, gentlemen," Edwards said.
"Just in time to hold Charlie back," Walker added. "Let San Jose P.D. run with it from here, Charlie."
"Hey, they really pissed me off, but I can live with that. Knowing something is going on to catch these bastards. I'll stay close to Jenny and Madison where I belong."
"Music to my ears, Charlie. Hold on, Jacque's back. Were they still there?" We heard Walker ask her, then the line was mumbled voices for a few minutes. "This job will be the death of me. Jacque handed me her phone with a shot of the car, Edwards is running down the license plate now. She pulled into a driveway two houses down, took the picture approaching the home owner's front door and went in for a few minutes. The car was leaving when she got outside again. She won't stop asking me, what's next? What else can I do? Getting her back on dispatch is going to be as difficult as getting Marks back into his uniform!"
"So you'll contact Detective Miller?" Charlie asked.
"Yes, my next call. We'll increase patrol over there so they don't get too comfortable. Give this phone back to Marks. I'll have Edwards pick up a phone tonight that Julia can deliver to you tomorrow morning. Use your phones, if they're listening for routine calls so they aren't alerted that we're on to them."
"Goodnight Chief and thanks. I still owe you that beer."
"Clever, my friend. Maybe it's time to try one? Nah, then we'd lose our code for trouble. Good night you two." Walker disconnected the call.
I was a part of something important and amazingly that knowledge surfaced through my own anger at being on the side lines. "I have an idea, Mr. Watson. Family night with dinner upstairs, popcorn and a Disney movie, then all three of us sleep in that big ol' bed in my room."
"Works for me," he said, and strangely that seemed the perfect response to me.
Chapter 11
Henry McBride was reviewing the files he had accumulated on the engineers at Branson Systems prior to his four week vacation. His office thought he was in Belize as he'd eluded to them the previous three years. He was, however in a rented three bedroom house in the foothills outside of San Jose. For Henry, a Senior Special Agent in the Los Angles FBI office, information was easy to obtain. As he'd done those three previous years, selling high tech information to the highest bidder had provided a 12.5 million dollar retirement account. Maybe, he thought, he'd take an early retirement from the FBI and would enjoy his oceanfront property in Belize after this job.
Henry, at fifty-five was in very good physical health because he was one that actually used his gym membership three days a week. Six-foot two inches tall and at two hundred pounds only a little gray was tinting his dark brown hair which was neatly trimmed once a month. Four years ago this once dedicated FBI special agent looked around his mid-stream three bedroom home and contentment had followed his wife of twenty years out the door. Long dedicated hours, being passed over a third time for promotion, and his wife gone, changed everything. He wanted, no, he deserved more and was intelligent enough to get it.
Brittney Scott, his girlfriend for the last nine months, was a beautiful twenty-eight year old near genius computer hacker. She'd approached him in a coffee house he frequented. H
enry saw immediately in her not only a financial, but also a romantic future as well and moved her into his home after four months.
Henry and Brittney stayed in the rented house. His six man crew stayed in two separate motels in San Jose with the exception of the two men that had been sent to Marina to keep Charlie Watson under surveillance. It wasn't a contingency he'd planned on, but getting to this point of success without useless killing was a thread of moral fiber he held onto. Until, of course, holding on to it proved a threat.
"All indications from Marina are that Watson really did pull the plug," Brittney reported entering the living room. "His story to Walter about Jenny Watson checks out as well. Car accident with a head injury, amnesia, all in her hospital records."
"No place beyond your reach, Brit. We still can't assume that he doesn't realize we're monitoring his phone." Henry stood up and rounded the desk to embrace her. "We'll leave Dan and Tom in Marina at least a couple more days."
"I doubted your wisdom in letting him go, understood his gone missing would bog things down, but fatal traffic accidents occur every day."
"Twenty six years with the FBI and I've not taken a single life. I like the idea of walking down our private dock toward that beautiful forty-five foot yacht knowing there was no bloodshed to have it there."
"A hesitation to cross that line, Honey, could wipe out the whole dream, our dream."
"I said; I'd like the idea of no bloodshed. Not to be confused as a requirement. The photos of Sandy Richards just came in. It's time to show them to her father to get our hands on the guidance system technology and move into our dream."
"I don't think when Don Richards sent his little Sandy to Arizona State University, he'd expected to see her in Bondage 101 in her second year. Paul is coming to get these photos and he'll find Don Richards, his norm on the golf course this morning."
"Brit, I think the threat on her life was enough … this seems extreme," Henry said holding one of the photos that showed Sandy on a metal framed bed, her arms and legs bonded in cuffs to the corners. A sheet covered her body between her thighs and shoulders giving the feeling of nakedness below it. On the right side of the bed, five men were lined up, their backs to the camera and were wearing only jeans.
"In a father's mind, it can be worse than just death. We should get quick cooperation from Mr. Don Richards," Brittney explained.
*****
Sunday dinner at Walter Price's home was the one night a week his wife, Linda insisted the family be gathered. Walter had a daughter, Kathy, age 20 attending Stanford University and two boys at home, Richie, was thirteen and Wally was approaching sixteen. They were all home for the Christmas New Year's break. Kathy was helping her mother clear the dinner dishes when her cell phone rang. Setting the dishes on the kitchen counter she ran back to answer on the forth ring.
"Hello?"
"Hello Kathy. My name is Dan Miller, I'd like to speak with your father a moment, please."
"Why are you calling him on my phone?"
"It's important, Kathy. Is he there?"
"Hold on," she said and carried her phone to her father. "It's some man for you, Dad."
Walter took the phone and while watching his daughter's puzzled face. "This is Walter Price and who is it I'm speaking with?"
"Detective Dan Miller, San Jose Police Department, Mr. Price without saying a word will you take this phone into the bathroom where I can explain the situation?"
Walter stood up and went into the master bathroom and closed the door. "OK, detective what the hell is going on?"
"We've been relayed a message from Charlie Watson and I'll get to that in a moment. We know a sophisticated group is in the area seeking the technical design specs on your company's guidance system. We know you are being watched closely and possibly your home and cell phones are also being monitored by this group. That's the reason I'm using your daughter's phone."
"We need to get the FBI involved here," Walter said.
"Already done, Sir. Special Agent in Charge Baker of the San Jose field office has been alerted to the situation. Mr. Watson had been abducted by this group while providing surveillance for you. They threaten harm to his wife and daughter if he in any way reported it to you or the authorities."
"Obviously, he reported it anyway."
"Yes he did. And although he insisted we inform you, you can't do anything out of your normal routine to alert this group that you are aware of them."
"Do we know which engineer is being pursued?"
"Mr. Watson was following, what he thought was Steve Chandler's vehicle when they abducted him. Mr. Watson was told that Chandler was their target, had financial problems. Mr. Price, greed is only one motivator these people use to get what they want. Even your most trustworthy engineer will comply if their family is threatened."
"What about my family, detective?"
"That brings me to my next point. The Williams family that shares your common backyard fence has allowed FBI Special Agent Debbie Gordon access through their yard to your back door. She has a phone we need you to use to contact us and will be able to scan your home and vehicles for listening devices. She'll stay there, providing protection for your family until this is resolved."
"Is she there now?"
"Yes, Sir. Until she can scan your home for listening devices, don't verbally alert your family as that will also be heard by anyone listening. You might get a movie going and direct them out back. Special Agent Gordon will have more information."
"Thank you Detective Miller, I'll do that now." Walter hit end call and walked back to the dining room table with a finger pressed to his lips. When his families puzzled faces acknowledged his message with nods, he said, "Damn salesman. Ok, let's have a movie with that dessert." He turned the TV on and ushered his family to the rear sliding glass door and again with his finger pressed to his lips pulled the drape back to expose Special Agent Gordon standing on the patio. She gestured for them to come out back. With them all on the rear porch she slide the door closed.
"Hello, I'm Debbie with the FBI." She focused on the younger boys and showed them her badge. "We've become aware of people interested in your dad's company and I need to check your home to see if they have any listening devices in there, but I'll need your help."
"Cool, like a spy movie," Wally said.
"What can we do, Agent Gordon?" Walter asked.
"I need you as a family to go back in your home and act like I'm not here. Normal conversation preferred while I scan your home, can you help me boys?"
"Sure, I can do that," Wally said already smitten with the young attractive FBI Agent.
"Of course we'll help," Mrs. Price finally offered after sorting through the confusion.
"Good, I'll start in this back room, if I could get one of the adults to close the front blinds it won't take me long to go through the house." With that they all went back inside.
Chapter 12
The San Jose Country Club is a private golf club established nearly a century ago. Don Richards' father, Blake Richards, has been a member there for over forty years and Don rounded out a regular foursome with him every two weeks. The tradition included dinner and drinks in the Eddie Duino Room. Paul had spent most of the day following Don Richards on the golf course without an opportunity to approach him. When the foursome finished golfing and entered the club house, Paul slipped into the back seat of Don Richards' Lincoln Town Car. He removed the bulb from the overhead interior light and waited.
Paul heard the door locks and trunk pop open. He burrowed deep into the rear seat foot area with his gun in hand. Don loaded his golf clubs, closed the trunk and slid into the driver's seat.
"Damn light, always something," Don said to himself and started the car. He backed out of the parking spot and put the car in drive. When Don was facing forward again Paul moved into position directly behind him.
"Don't turn around!" Paul instructed pressing the barrel of his gun into the back of Don's head. "Yes, that's my gun. To av
oid the messy cleanup of your brain matter all over the dash and windshield, turn right exiting the club."
"What the hell do you want? Money?"
"Privacy, at the moment. Push that rear view mirror to the right." Don complied and Paul continued. "There's a Carts and More Repair Shop ahead on the left. We'll discuss our business when you pull around to the back of that shop." Don turned right exiting the club and pulled in behind the repair shop a block down. The sun had set an hour ago and they were in the unlit rear lot of the repair shop.
"I'm not rich; it's my father's club membership!"
"It'd be a really nice place to walk Sandy down the aisle one day, Don. Can I call you, Don?"
"You bastard! What do you want?"
"Well it's not me, Don. It's my boss, and he'd love nothing more than to trade your chance to walk Sandy down that aisle for the design specs on "Nestseeker". As for me, I'd be in Arizona for a couple of hours with your better contribution to the world. That Sandy is alluring, dad."
"You have my daughter?" Don started to turn his head in rage when Paul pressed the barrel of the gun harder into his head.
"Eyes forward! She's fine, for now. I'll even let you speak to her if you behave, Don."
"I can't get that information out of the office, through security, it's impossible!"
"We'll help you with that. But first, let's work on some positive motivation," Paul hit the speed button on his phone. "Put her on." There was moments delay. "Don, I'm going to hold the phone to your left ear, keep your hands on the wheel and my gun will stay nested where it is. Understand?"
"Yes, if you've hurt her …"
"Daddy! Are you there?" Sandy pleaded on the phone.
"I'm here, sweetheart. Have they hurt you?"
"No. But they will, please do what they want, I'm …." Paul pulled the phone away and hit end call.
"Ok, Don now what happens next is up to you. Oh, I just happen to have a visual of one of the possibilities for you, consider it a flier for the full length movie." Paul slide the photo around the headrest on Don's left side. "Take it, there's a small flashlight on the center console."
Watson Manor My Journey Home (Watson Manor Mystery Series Book 4) Page 6