New Growth (Spook Hills Trilogy Book 2)

by Menard, Jayne

  Chapter 22

  The next day a group congregated around the big table at Spook Hills where Steve planned to bring them up-to-date after visiting Lenny that morning. Ivy put out a thermos of hot chocolate and a large platter of chicken, bacon and Havarti triple-deckers, along with pickles, chips and raspberry bars.

  “First, you can all relax about Mathew,” Steve said, nodding across the table to him. “His injury should be quick to heal, even though he will have physical therapy ahead of him.”

  Mathew managed a grim smile.

  “And Lenny?” Rick asked

  “Lenny worries me. He is haggard and drugged out,” Steve said. “He came through surgery yesterday and he should be home in a few days. We'll put him downstairs in the second guest room and like Mathew, he can use the little elevator to come upstairs when he is able. Lenny’s wounds are deep. He lost a lot of blood. However, he's tough. He'll pull through with our help."

  "Thank heaven," Mathew said. "Glad he’s not worse."

  "When Ivy and I were exiting the hospital this morning, the Chief called,” Steve said. “A gunman hit the senior agent on Susannah’s kidnapping during his walk to the FBI offices today. He’s in critical condition. If he survives, he’ll undergo surgery. The gunman made a clean getaway."

  "Damn, he’s a good man,” Mathew said. “As I recall, he’s married with two teenage kids. At least his assault provides focus to our list of possibilities. Must be the mob boss from Susannah's case who is orchestrating these retaliation moves.”

  "Protection has been increased for Lenny, here at Spook Hills and at Lindquist Estates."

  "I thought the FBI put the gang boss in jail," Callie said.

  "They did. He remains there,” Mathew said. “Someone he trusts must have stepped up to run things."

  Steve paused to let the news sink in before saying, “Mathew and Lenny were likely the targets, but anyone associated with Susannah’s rescue could be at risk. With Lenny laid up, I’m going to supplement what the FBI office can do. If any of you want to leave until this is over, we can set up a secure location."

  "My place is with you," Ivy said, jutting her chin out in her determined way.

  Everyone else in the room nodded.

  “Agree with you on adding those retired agents,” Mathew said. “They can bunk down in Lenny’s trailer if needed and do surveillance on both properties. Horrible about that CARD team leader in San Francisco.”

  “Feeling like a snow goose in a pond waiting for the next round of hunters to show up,” Rick said. “If the mob boss in California is behind the attack, can’t the feds neutralize him? He’s in custody pending trial, isn’t he? How is he organizing all this?”

  Mathew exchanged a glance with Steve. “Steve could talk to the Bureau about opening negotiations with the criminal’s attorneys.”

  “Like what can you propose to make his hired guns back off?” Rick asked.

  “We can draw from a number of points in a negotiation,” Steve said in a steady tone, even though his eyes became a dark gray as if a thunderstorm brewed inside his head. “Like the mob boss stays out of solitary confinement if he calls off the hunt. Another point of leverage may be to drop any possible actions against his wife. If she signed their annual returns, she could be detained for tax evasion at a minimum. The FBI will not let him walk, but we might be able to increase or ease his discomfort. His middle son was arrested too. Perhaps certain charges against him could be mitigated.”

  The group was silent as they mulled over what Steve said.

  “I hate this type of situation,” he continued. “Criminals should pay for what they did. Conversely this will be the smart tactic if it keeps us from further endangerment.”

  Rick nodded reluctantly. “Agreed, however much it sticks in my craw to give that bastard any form of leniency.”

  Steve waited a moment and then said, “One of us should be on the ground to guide the negotiation.”

  “I’ll go,” Mathew said, his voice firm.

  “Mathew! You’re injured,” Callie said in horror. “You did way more than you should with getting Susannah back and now you’ve been shot.”

  Susannah stood up and scrunched herself between the chairs to stand next to Mathew, taking up his hand protectively.

  When Steve went to volunteer, Ivy put her hand on his arm. He glanced over at her and at Mathew.

  “What do you want me to do?” he asked instead.

  “Become even more active on the search for Cruze and Julio. I want whatever they are up to resolved as well. The Bureau needs to put you in charge. Call the Chief and kick up a fuss. I want a life here without crazed gunmen after us.”

  “On it,” Steve said.

  “Callie, Susannah, I’ve been down this path before with gunshot wounds. I understand the rehab process and I can limp along quite well. One thing – Callie, will you take me out to dinner tonight, like you suggested before this happened?” Mathew asked.

  “I’ll pick you up at six,” said Callie.

  Susannah smiled over at him. “Date night for Mommy and Mathew!”

  “And my little pixie, do you have a photo of yourself for my wallet?” he said, turning towards Susannah.

  She blushed and hid her face against his arm, but she nodded and whispered, “Yes.”

  “Now we need to make John Henry aware of what’s going on. He might be vulnerable as well,” said Mathew

  “Callie, you better communicate through our attorney,” Rick said. “Let’s make the call together.”

  Callie sat up straighter and spoke with a determined edge in her speech. “You can listen in. I will make the call. I must take control my life, even though your support is always appreciated.”

  After their cozy dinner that night, Callie pulled into a parking space on Twenty-Third Street in uptown Portland, feeling as awkward as an inexperienced teenager. While they dined, she talked about her time in Sedona, although shyness kept her from telling Mathew what she wanted to say. Even though his wound bothered him and she needed to take him home, she had to push forward while she still had the confidence engendered by her spiritual retreat.

  “After I’m back,” he said, swiveling to face her and wincing a little as the weight moved on to his left leg, “let’s send Ivy and Steve out for a night and we’ll cook together again.”

  She smiled at him. “Like a couple of teenagers wanting time alone.”

  “Teens don’t grapple with all our problems.”

  “Some do. Mathew, how do I say what I need to say?”

  She ducked her head down and sat in silence for a moment before saying. “I want to know you better, but . . .”

  “Is this still about John Henry?” Mathew asked.

  “No. I’m embarrassed being forward. Do you want a relationship with me?”

  He gathered her in his arms and said, “I’m a little wounded, Callie. Nonetheless, I am as much attracted to you as ever.”

  When he kissed her, the kiss deepened to leave her with no doubt of his attraction for her staying at least as strong as before. A tingle foretelling a deep, passionate love thrilled through her. Her body began responding, and Mathew mumbled a curse when he pulled away.

  The Paul McCartney’s song “Baby I’m Amazed” started playing on the radio, filling the silence between them.

  “Dance with me?” he asked and opened the passenger door.

  “Here? In the rain?”

  “A mere drizzle, mizzling I think the English call it.” Mathew struggled out of the car, leaning his cane against her Subaru and leaving the door open to permit the music to drift out into the night air.

  Laughing and shaking her head, Callie turned the car off, making sure the tune played on and went to join him. While they might not be up to any fancy moves, they could glide around the pavement. Another couple walked by, stared at them, chuckled and snuggled together as they walked away. A passing car hooted the horn. An older couple out walking their dog stopped, tied the dog up and started danci
ng too.

  Mathew pushed back to gaze into her eyes and then his lips brushed her cheek. As the music ended, a police car cruising by pulled over. The other couple quickly untied their dog and resumed their walk. Callie and Mathew stood together, turning to the policeman when he came over.

  “How are you?” Mathew said, holding out his hand.

  The cop frowned at him, took his hand and asked, “Do I know you?”

  “You responded to a call back in June 2013 on a shooting at Council Crest. Remember, one intruder dead and the others crashed their car in a fiery wreck after a car chase?”

  “Oh yeah. You were one of the FBI bigwigs, right?” asked the cop.

  “Worked for the Bureau anyway,” Mathew said.

  “You caught those perps?”

  “About a year ago,” Mathew said, as he reached over to grab his cane and propped himself up with it.

  “What’s with the leg?” the cop asked.

  “We own a farm out in Dundee. Sniper took potshots at us over the weekend.”

  “And you’re out doing a jig tonight?”

  “Callie took me to dinner, and I wanted to dance with her. I’m heading to San Francisco tomorrow to work with the FBI down there.”

  “You FBI vigilantes?”

  “We consult when we are pulled back into cases. Can you recommend any good local people for serious security work? Even though the FBI is protecting us, the office here is stretched thin.”

  “With Christmas on the way, I’d take extra hours. A couple of other fellows on the force might be interested too.”

  Mathew fished out his wallet and gave him a card. “Call this number. My partner Steve or his wife Ivy may answer – you remember them?”

  “He the big guy?”

  “Sure is. He’s doing the scheduling. I’ll alert him that you might call. Are we in any trouble for waltzing on the sidewalk?”

  “Wanted to verify your level of sobriety. Have a good evening,” the cop said and turned to walk back to the squad car.

  “Hey Officer, what’s your name?” Mathew said.

  “Nick Brandish. Yours?”

  “Mathew Heylen and this is Callie Lindquist.”

  Callie walked back to the driver side marveling at the conversation. Once seated, she said, “Only you.”

  “Only me, what?”

  “Only you would be acquainted with the police officer and offer him a job.”

  “We’re running low on agents who can fly to Oregon.”

  She started the car, put on her seatbelt and smiled.

  “Thank you,” she said. When the words came out in a soft tone, they surprised her by being audible at all.

  “For what?”

  “For putting magic in my life. The whole scene will live in my mind, glistening with raindrops. I will remember the sweetness of dancing with you, the charm of having the other couple join us and even to the exchange with the policeman. Sometimes with you I feel this cannot be real but a clip from a movie.”

  “I’m learning from Steve,” he said. “Before Ivy, he wasn’t much of a romantic. She brings out his softer side. He may do small things to delight her like picking a bunch of wildflowers or larger ones like building the tree house with an aerie bed for sleepovers.”

  Callie smiled as she drove to the corner and turned north on Burnside. In her memory, this night would be wrapped in pale blue satin to hold close during the upcoming days with Mathew away.

  Ivy stood doing her night facial routine when Steve’s phone rang. They shared a delicious night of champagne, love-making and raiding the refrigerator for leftovers, reminding her of the first night they made love at her old house up in Portland, when Steve made turkey sandwiches that they ate cuddled in bed. While being together no longer new to them, their lovemaking remained sweet and exceptionally sensual. Now mellowed out, Ivy resented the possibility of any unpleasantness.

  Steve walked in and said, “Mathew. On their way home. He ran into one of the cops from that incident with the gunmen who shot up your old house. The guy may be willing to moonlight for us. He’s going to ask a couple of his buddies to help out too.”

  He moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder so they studied each other in the mirror while Ivy put on a light layer of night moisturizer. She nestled back into Steve, conscious of how well they fitted together. At six feet, she always seemed too tall. With Steve standing a big five inches above her, her body took on a more feminine aspect.

  “Now if we can just hear back from Mueller,” Steve said.

  “What did you ask him for?” Ivy asked.

  “Authority over the case. After last year’s heart-stopping experience in Santa Fe, even the Chief indicated I should not go back out in the field.”

  “What's he waiting for?”

  “Agreement from the new head of the FBI. Guess by now I should call him the Chief.”

  Steve’s phone buzzed again. He walked out to take the call by the fire while Ivy went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water for each of them. The headlights of a car showed someone approaching the house. Once she confirmed the vehicle as Callie’s Subaru, Ivy walked back to the bedroom, placed the glasses on their night tables and went to sit by Steve.

  “Understand. I still report through Mule?” Steve said, then he listened and smiled. “Yeah, that’s my nickname for Mueller. He can be as obstinate as I am making the wordplay work. Not to take away from him, his leadership demonstrated an exceptional balance between creativity and solidity. Appreciate the call.”

  He turned to Ivy and said. “The new Chief. Thought he should talk to me. I will still work for Mule. He agrees we should get aggressive and is arranging clearance for whatever I need. He asked me to resolve this case because he wants me to develop some training for him next year.”

  Ivy raised her eyebrows at the last comment. At least training development would not involve any thugs shooting at them. Whereas once she found Steve’s handling an FBI case frightening, now she accepted his vocation and even wanted to participate in the pursuit. They were floundering around the edges of this case against the last of the Fuentes, and they wanted resolution.

  “Partners?” he said, catching up her hand.

  “Always.”

  Mathew walked in, flushed and smiling despite his ungainly pace.

  “Splendid evening,” he said without preamble. “Thanks Steve for convincing Callie to go for spiritual counseling. While I nixed the idea at first, the workshop made a significant difference. She sorted through her past and is ready to start dating me in earnest!”

  “Of course she is,” Ivy said. “Anyone can see the compelling allure between you two.”

  “When I come back from San Francisco, would you two be willing to go someplace for a date night?”

  “You and Callie take priority!” Steve said. “Tell us when.”

  The next morning Cruze met up with Julio in Barcelona to explore living there. The drive of three hours from his mountain retreat would allow them to visit each other without stressing their friendship. For this visit he brought his boat up the coast and now they dawdled on the deck in the warm Mediterranean sunshine over a late breakfast.

  “I went out to Portland to do an assessment,” Julio said. “Think one of the former agents spotted me in the airport. He followed me into the gate area where I slipped away.”

  “In the way only you can do,” Cruze said, pausing to bite into one of the freshly made churros Julio had picked up. “Too bad he saw you. If he tried to follow you, they know who you are. I wonder how.”

  “The big agent and his wife flew out to the Madrid house. The feds crawled all over the property again too.”

  “What do you think they went after?” Cruze asked.

  “Evidence they missed the last time is my guess. Info leading to you.”

  “Or to you. Eduardo kept old photographs from our mother. We went through them sometimes. Included photos of you as Annetta, of course. I rememb
er pics of you as Julio too, back in your early twenties.”

  “I am more mature now,” Julio said. “Harder to recognize.”

  “The FBI uses aging software which means at least our U.S. passports are blown. What others do you have?”

  “Colombia, Mexico, Cuba and Spain. You?”

  “Those, plus Venezuela, Argentina and Chile. That gives us enough unless they can tap into international resources,” Cruze said.

  “I wondered about cosmetic procedures and new identities,” Julio said. “Get silicone implants and give up the Julio image.”

  “Pretty radical. I can’t picture you with a curvaceous figure.”

  “Not sure I can either and my disguise options would be more limited if we need to make any quick departures. Is your mind made up? Will you seek revenge for your brothers’ deaths?”

  “I am not a leader,” Cruze replied after a few moments of thought. “By disposition and preference, I am a follower.”

  “And I am not of a confrontational nature,” Julio said. “Cristo and Eduardo would avenge us.”

  “Yes they would, but I’m tired of the danger. I never wanted that life.”

  Julio took a small sip of the café au lait he brought with him. When he spoke, he measured out his words carefully.

  “I think of you as the peacemaker and as your brothers’ supporter. You always covered Cristo’s back. You did juvie time and never squealed on him. Cruze, I think you paid any obligations while they were alive. The future is for you.”

  Cruze mulled over her comment and let himself dare to think of a peaceable outcome. Barcelona suited Julio with its glitzy financial center, historic buildings, sandy beaches and elegant shops. He shut his eyes, picturing his sanctuary in Botaya, a new sailboat docked here, talks and dining with Julio and the joy of sailing this sparkling sea.

  “I will find plastic surgeons to work on our faces and our fingerprints. We should also plunk in colored contact lenses and restyle our hair,” Julio said.

  “Are you sure we need to do this? Seeing you again as Annetta will be better. I never asked, how did you manage to date?” Cruze asked, knowing he was venturing into the never discussed topic of Julio’s sexuality.