by Unknown
“He wasn’t the first born.”
“That had to hurt.”
“He didn’t want to be a farmer. In fact like you, he heeded the call of the sea at an early age. It turns out Elisha was also an ancestor of Fleet Admiral Halsey.” Wendell patted Jake on the shoulder. “Have a good day.”
It was already turning out to be the best day of his life so far. Of her own volition, Maggie had sought him out this morning. She’d taken a run up City Creek for no other reason than to be with him. Maggie McFarland just didn’t do things like that.
He looked down at the paper in his hand. Even if he didn’t have anything new on the Burics, Wendell had given him something priceless to share with her tonight. The end of his workday couldn’t come soon enough.
Folding it up, he put the will in his pocket and got busy transcribing off disks. Every day more microfilming of civil, church and cemetery records was being done throughout Eastern Europe. Getting the latest information into the database was a never-ending process.
Until Maggie’s advent into his life, he hadn’t realized how invaluable genealogy could be in solving past crimes. It was a fascinating business, one he could see himself doing indefinitely.
At two, he checked in with Kamila to find out how she and Jared were getting along. Apparently she’d decided to cook Jake’s father’s favorite Polish dinner for them tonight to surprise Maggie. Kamila sounded like she was getting along better than fine. Now if only—
The ringing of his cell phone had him grabbing for it. He checked his watch. It was five to three, which meant five to five New York time. Maybe it was the Realtor.
Without looking at the caller ID, he clicked on. “This is Mr. Halsey.”
“Jake? It’s Maggie.”
Didn’t she know she only had to say his name and he would always know who she was? But she sounded so upset, he didn’t say what he was thinking. “What’s wrong?”
“My sister-in-law’s father, John Holbrook, passed away at noon. He had a heart attack the other day. It was minor, and they sent him home. But this morning he suffered a massive one and didn’t survive.”
Jake grimaced. “I’m sorry.”
“I am, too. He was only sixty-five. My parents are anxious to be with Julie’s mother, so I’m flying them to Colorado Springs right now. We’ll stay over at our condo there and come back in the morning. Please tell Kamila I’m sorry. You know how much I wanted to be with you tonight.”
Once again Jake was forced to fight his bitter disappointment. Not only because his plans for tonight had just gone up in smoke, but because she hadn’t asked him to go with her.
You’re not family, Halsey.
They weren’t even lovers yet.
“Of course I understand. Your family needs you.”
“Thank you, Jake. I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m back.”
His eyes closed tightly. “I’ll be waiting. Please give my condolences to your brother and sister-in-law.”
“I will. Talk to you soon.”
So much for having a good day.
Jake had hardly hung up when it rang again. He almost broke the chair reaching for it. Maybe she’d changed her mind and didn’t want to go without him.
“Maggie?” he said after clicking on.
“No. This is Brett Rosen, the manager of Rosen Realty. I understand from another Realtor you were looking for a Jan and Marie Skwars Buric who used to own a home in Fordham twenty-six years ago.”
This time Jake shot to his feet. “That’s right. What did you find out?”
“Our company took over Goldman Realty twenty years ago. I checked back in the archives and found the signature of Marie Skwars Buric as the seller.”
That meant Franz Buric hadn’t been lying! He wanted out of prison enough to turn in his own brother.
“This is great news, Mr. Rosen. Who was the actual agent on the sale?”
“A Michael Geeson.”
“Obviously he doesn’t work for you.”
“No.”
“Would you do me one more favor and look up a phone number on him? I’ll send you a check for your trouble.”
“That’s all right. Give me a minute. I’m going to put you on hold.”
“Fine.” Jake would give him all the time he needed if he could produce the phone number.
Five minutes passed before the Realtor returned to the phone. “Mr. Halsey? I checked with the operator. She did a global search of New York state. Nothing came up with that spelling or a phonetic spelling. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’ve been very helpful. Thank you for getting back to me.” They hung up.
Mr. Geeson had to be someplace. Before Jake called the operator to do global searches of the surrounding states, he decided to look up the name in the genealogical database.
Geeson.
Within seconds, several hundred heads of families taken from the 2000 U.S. census appeared on the screen. Gieson, Giesen, Gizon, Geason. Finally he came to a clump of Geesons, all in Ohio except for one in Kansas.
He picked up the phone and asked for Kansas information. The operator did a search and found a couple, but none with the name Michael. Jake jotted down the phone numbers anyway.
Next, he got the Ohio operator on the line. There were two Michaels in Cleveland. He tried the first one. A female answered. “Geeson residence.”
Jake said hello and told her what he wanted. When he added that it was a matter of life and death she said, “That would be my father-in-law. While he was in college in New York years ago, he did part-time work for a real-estate agency. I’ll give you his cell-phone number.”
Those were the words Jake had been waiting to hear.
He thanked her, then phoned the other number. When the man answered, Jake once again explained who he was. “You sold a house for a Mrs. Marie Skwars Buric. She had two grandsons, Antonin and Franz.”
“Buric…she was the Czech woman. A widow.”
Jake’s adrenaline was pumping. “That’s right. Do you recall meeting her grandsons?”
“No. When she came to the office to sign papers, she was alone.”
“Do you remember why she was selling the house, and more importantly, where was she going? Would she have been planning to move to a retirement home by any chance?”
“I…think she might have been going to her brother’s, but I’m not positive and I don’t remember a name.”
Her brother.
He would be a Skwars. That was the next place to search. “You’ve been more help than you know. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. If something else comes to mind, I’ll call you.”
After their exchange, Jake phoned for a Skwars anywhere in the state of New York. The operator couldn’t find it on the global search.
Once again he searched the latest census of names in the computer database. He found close to thirty Skwars who were heads of family, all living in Racine County, Wisconsin.
Wisconsin. He recalled that the largest group of Burics had settled there, too.
Without wasting any time, he phoned the area code for Racine County and asked the operator for Skwars’ numbers.
“There are too many of them. Since you don’t have a first name, I’ll give you the number for Skwars Farm.”
Jake wrote it down. After hanging up, he did a search for it on the Internet, curious to know if there was an advertisement. Up popped the home page for Skwars Farm.
Welcome to Bohemian heaven in Wisconsin’s fruit belt.
He clicked through the pages listing the fruit market, the bakery, the pick-your-own-fruit program, shipping office, tours of the original homestead, the museum with scheduled classes in egg painting featuring batik, eyelet lace, meadow flowers and painted relief.
It was open year round except for Christmas through New Year’s. The flourishing family business started by Jainos Skwars had existed for over sixty years.
What better place for Antonin to be hiding out. Jake whistled. He had a feeling i
n his bones he was on to something solid at last.
Reaching for the phone, he called Kamila and told her plans had changed.
“The dinner will keep in the fridge until tomorrow night when she’s back from Colorado.”
It had been so many years, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have family home waiting for him. No one was more pleasant and upbeat than Kamila, even in her pain. Jared didn’t know it yet, but he was a lucky boy to have such a terrific mother.
“Thanks for being so great about it. Under the circumstances, why don’t I take you and Jared out for an American hamburger? We’ll do a little tour of the city at the same time to help you get your bearings.”
“We’d love it. Maybe you could show me some places where I could rent a house in a nice residential neighborhood. With the money your father left in that Swiss bank account for me, I can afford it. I don’t want Jared to grow up in an apartment. I’m sick of them.”
“You can’t move out on me yet! You just got here.”
“We’ve always been honest with each other, Jake, so I know you won’t take me wrong when I tell you that we both need our own space. I don’t want to clutter up your place and then have to move it all out later. I’d rather get on top of things right away.”
He smiled. Kamila was a determined woman, and once her mind was made up, there was no turning back. That’s how she’d managed to get his father to cave.
“Whatever you say. I’ll be home in about an hour, then we’ll go house hunting.”
“I always could count on you,” she said in a choked-up voice. “You’re your father’s son more than you know. Maggie McFarland and I are the luckiest women in the world.”
Jake had no response for that. He was too terrified Antonin might not be where Jake thought he was. If Kathryn’s case was never solved, Maggie might not allow him inside her circle of one.
As if just thinking about her had conjured her up, his cell phone rang with her number showing on the caller ID.
His pulse rate tripled. “Maggie?”
“Hi.”
Maybe she hadn’t gone after all. “Where are you?”
“In Colorado Springs.”
“Are you all right?”
“No. Mom’s not doing well. She’s close to Julie’s family and has taken his death very hard. But we all know why her grief is so intense. Dad says she’s always better when I’m with her, so he’s asked me to stay with them until the funeral’s over on Saturday.”
And Jake hadn’t thought things could get worse.
“I’ve already called Scott. Between him and Steve, they’ll cover for me at the firm. Can we put off dinner until Saturday night?”
“That all depends. When do you think you’ll be flying home?”
“The funeral’s scheduled for ten-thirty. I’m presuming we’ll be back around three in the afternoon, but you never know.” Her voice trailed away.
“It’ll probably be later, so I have an idea.”
“What is it?”
“Why don’t you get a good night’s sleep on Saturday so you’ll be ready to take a trip with me on Sunday.”
“Where?” she cried. At least that response sounded eager.
“Racine, Wisconsin.”
She was silent for a moment. “What’s in Racine?”
“Hopefully Antonin Buric.”
“Jake!”
“Don’t mention this to anyone else in case this leads to a dead end. I’ll tell you all about it when we get in the air.”
“After we fly in on Saturday, I’ll phone you to touch base. Give my best to Kamila, and a big kiss to that adorable little brother of yours.”
“I will. Miss me a little.”
The Daughter’s Return
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MAGGIE MISSED JAKE so much, the four days away from him were pure torture. But what would have been worse was to come home to no Jake.
It was a good thing she hadn’t made plans to be with him Saturday night. By the time Maggie had driven her parents home from the airport, it was past nine. Another ordeal began when her mom begged her to stay at the house instead of going back to her condo.
Four days of togetherness hadn’t been enough for Ellen McFarland, not even with all the family and friends who’d come to the Holbrook home both before and after the funeral to talk. Everyone wanted to reminisce about John and what a wonderful man and father he’d been.
Maggie knew her mother’s pain was most acute when the whole family was assembled for a major event, whether it be happy or sad. Those gatherings were a reminder that her baby girl was missing, and might always be missing, though she’d never stopped believing Kathryn was alive.
Maggie had envied Brock and Katy, who were able to play quietly with their Colorado cousins. They didn’t understand that their grandmother McFarland was suffering because one of her children wasn’t there.
Her mom seemed calmest, most serene, when she took a proactive role in foundation business. Then she became a fighter and forgot herself long enough to encourage frantic parents not to give up.
No one could be a more understanding and compassionate person than her mother during someone else’s crisis. But no one could comfort her when her heart longed for her baby, except Maggie’s father who needed comforting himself.
Jake had accomplished more in the past few weeks than all of the law enforcement agencies working on Kathryn’s case put together. He’d given them fresh hope. This latest lead was evidence of his unceasing determination to track down Antonin and find out what he’d done with Kathryn.
Maggie loved him for it. She loved him with a passion she couldn’t begin to put into words.
When she drove around the back of his apartment early Sunday morning as arranged, all she could think about was throwing herself in his arms. But he was outside playing with the baby while Kamila looked on. Maggie had to muster all of her self-control to remain composed.
She pulled to a stop next to his car and got out, eager to give the baby a squeeze. Her eyes met Jake’s. His intimate gaze traveled over her, bringing her senses alive.
“Could I hold him for a minute?”
“Jared’s been waiting for you.” He handed the baby over to her.
“Oh you cute little thing.” She clutched him to her and kissed his neck before glancing at Kamila. “I swear he’s bigger than the last time I saw him.”
“It feels like you’ve been gone a year,” Jake said in a low aside.
Jake didn’t know the half of it.
Kamila smiled. “He’s getting heavier all the time, and hungrier. It’s time to feed him his rice cereal. You love that, don’t you, lambkin?”
Maggie was forced to relinquish him to his mother. Kamila started up the steps before turning to them. “Have a safe trip. I won’t stop praying you find the man responsible.”
“Are you going to be all right alone?”
“That’s very sweet of you to be concerned, Maggie, but Jared and I have each other, and I’ve been on the phone nonstop with my family in Poland. They’re going to come to the States in October for a visit, so I’ve got to get my house ready for them.”
“What house? You’ve bought a place already?” Maggie couldn’t believe it. She wondered how Jake felt about this.
“It’s a rent-to-own plan. I got hold of a Realtor on Wednesday and he showed me dozens of places. Jake approved of the home I picked, so I paid first and last month’s rent yesterday. If all goes well, I should be able to move in next week.”
“Where is it?”
“Here on the Avenues. Terrace Hills Drive.”
“That’s a perfect place, so close to the Ensign school and Eleventh Avenue park.”
“I’m happy about it.”
“So am I.” On that note Jake walked over to give Kamila and the baby one more kiss before joining Maggie. “I’ll call you and let you know what time we’re coming back.”
As Maggie climbed in the car, excitement raced through her. With Kamila puttin
g down roots here, no matter how temporarily, how could Jake possibly think of leaving in January to return to that world of covert operations and constant danger?
He loved Jared. The baby was a link to his father. Surely he was having second thoughts at this point about continuing in his former career.
“Stop for a minute,” he said when they’d started around the side of the apartment.
She braked before turning to him. “What is it?” He’d put his suitcase in the back, but maybe he’d forgotten something.
“This.”
His hand went to the back of her head. The next thing she knew, he’d drawn her close to kiss her. As he increased the pressure, the taste and feel of him blotted out the world.
Her foot slipped off the brake, which caused the engine to die. She didn’t care. They kissed feverishly. Maggie strained toward him, but the front seat of the car with a gearshift between them had to be the worst place on earth at a time like this. To add to her frustration, he lifted his mouth from hers way too soon.
“One of my neighbors is behind us,” he answered her little cry of protest. “He’s been patiently waiting for us to come back to reality.”
“Oh, no.”
She was in such a daze, her movements were slow as she struggled to recover and start the car.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered.
“So do you.”
“Maggie—”
“I think we’d better concentrate on the trip ahead of us. You still haven’t told me anything. What makes you think Antonin could be in Racine?”
“Not the city itself. On a fruit farm near a little town called Caledonia.”
By the time they’d taken off in the jet and had reached cruising speed, he’d apprised her of all the facts. Maggie was so certain Jake’s hunch was right, she could hardly contain herself.
“What I want us to do is pretend we’re tourists. We’ll play it to the hilt. Take the tour, attend a class, pick fruit, buy some fruit at the stands and eat at the bakery.
“As we make the rounds and keep our eyes out for a fifty-year-old man who might faintly resemble his brother Frankie, we’ll talk to people, find out if they’re a Skwars or a Buric. Sooner or later we’re bound to pick up on something crucial.”