by Al Turner
“I know,” the calm voice said. “I’m already here. Prepare to be boarded. We have some things to talk about.”
Kate knew he would approach from the canal. She locked her front door and headed to the back, where Jack had left only minutes before. As she stepped out onto the patio, she could see the lights from the vessel coming up the waterway. With a sense of some hope, she stood there and waited for it to dock.
CHOICES
Carson was almost at her apartment by the time Sanchez caught up to her. He grabbed for her arm, but she spun, fists ready for action. He stepped back, hands up, and quickly pointed to the badge on his shirt. “Whoa, chica—badge,” he sputtered.
“Love ya, Mr. Sanchez, so please don’t make me commit a felony.” Carson continued toward the stairs to her loft apartment. He followed her again but at a distance.
“Love ya too, crazy girl,” he called to her as she climbed the stairs. She waved a hand without looking back.
Sanchez was relieved when Tripp and Daniel arrived. He patted Tripp on the shoulder and pointed to his sister stomping up her stairwell. Her loft was on the top floor, just above the apartment Tripp and Daniel shared on the second floor.
“Carson is more like her mama than she cares to admit,” Sanchez said as he tried to catch his breath. “Go talk some sense into her, son.”
“I’ll try,” said Tripp, and then looked thoughtful. “You meant to say she’s more like Pops, right?”
“No, son, your mama can be a tiger when you get on her bad side. Your dad can bear witness to that.”
Sanchez and Daniel stayed back and allowed Tripp the space to calm his sister. Daniel had other plans; he tapped Sanchez on the shoulder and pointed to his office. Sanchez just nodded as he stayed in position and waited for Carson to return. As Daniel disappeared behind the glass door, Sanchez scanned the square.
Viridian Square was really more of a circular plaza, with the old brick building that served as both the city hall and police department in the middle of it. The perimeter was lined with local shops, including Kate’s salon and the bar he and Jack co-owned. Once a fishing village, it had grown up gradually over the decades. It was typically quiet, just as the locals preferred it—at least until the sun went down. Then it became a popular hangout for the younger crowds that drifted in from the surrounding areas.
That suited Sanchez just fine. One of the main establishments to benefit was his and Jack’s bar, the Viridian Gem, on the other side of the square. Saturday nights were busy, so he really wanted to wrap things up and see the twins and Daniel off safely. He still had a crime scene to process and his part-time job was managing the bar on the weekends — where he made more money in one night than he brought in the rest of the week. As he thought about it, he saw Daniel disappear into his office.
***
Daniel instantly began to open drawers and cabinets around his cluttered desk. Tripp was always giving him grief about how disorganized he was. He glanced over at Tripp’s desk, across the room from his own, noting how pristine it always was.
No papers out of place, pens gathered neatly in a cup, and his computer monitor always wiped clean. The man even had two wastebaskets: one for trash, which was emptied every day, and the other for recyclables. Looking back at his own desk, he found last weekend’s half-eaten donut where he had left it, slowly petrifying.
After opening the last drawer it could possibly have been in, he dove into a pool of various wires and cables from mostly obsolete devices. Finally, with a victory cry similar to the one he had made when he won a modest jackpot at a casino along the Mississippi coast, he found what he was seeking. He still had to free it from the spaghetti-like mess of wires before he could put it to use.
Once it was freed, he held the special connector in his hand. It was something he had cooked up himself, just for such an occasion. It would come in handy if Tripp ever needed to break into someone’s phone while working a case.
At least, that was the idea. The connector was hexagonal with several different cables attached, one protruding from each side. It was the hardware needed for his task. The rest he would handle with special software he had written on the PC that sat in front of him.
He plugged in the standard end of the USB connection into his machine and fired it up. Tapping away with feverish speed on his keyboard, he brought up the application he would need and typed into a command-line interface. This particular iteration was version 2.0 of his software, the prior version being less user-friendly. After he had entered the last commands, a graphical user interface appeared on the screen.
Daniel searched for the correct connector among the cables and hooked up the phone he had retrieved from their kidnapper. A green progress bar moved slowly across the screen. After it finished, a prompt asked to initiate a subroutine that would start the cracking algorithms. Once this was executed, he watched a red progress bar as it appeared. This one moved even more slowly as his encryption breaker did its magic. Magic was probably what it would require—Daniel had yet to get it to work beyond the limited testing he had done on his own phone.
***
Upstairs, Carson peered out her back bedroom window from the third floor. She looked south toward her parents’ home, with the backdrop of the cove that was a part of Santa Rosa Sound. Off to the west, the setting sun lit the waters ablaze with brilliant hues of orange and yellow. As she trembled, she had to remind herself she was tough.
She practiced her deep breathing, something she had done as a child when she used to get panic attacks. Perhaps, she thought, those attacks were what toughened her up to embrace the dangers of the world. But for some reason those old feelings of terror crept back. She absolutely refused to give in to them.
Carson didn’t know how long Tripp had been behind her. How long had he been waiting for her to acknowledge him? When she realized he was there, she didn’t turn around right away. Instead, she continued to gaze at the setting sun.
Tripp, although known for his patience, seemed to know she was waiting on him. He cleared his throat to get her attention.
“Speak,” she said.
“What happened today wasn’t Mom’s fault.” He gave her a moment to respond, but when she didn’t, he said, “Your choosing to focus your anger on her is a sign of unresolved issues.”
“Oh? So she pushes the one man who can protect the family out the door. It doesn’t sound like I’m being unfair.” Carson still fixed her gaze on the disappearing sun.
Tripp hesitated, trying to find the correct words. “While I’m certain she didn’t intend to drive him away, I wasn’t privy to their conversation.”
Carson’s snort was her only reply.
“Look, Dad left for a reason. He probably wants to avoid putting us at further risk.” Tripp didn’t exactly look convinced of this, but it seemed to make him feel better.
His words triggered Carson to spin around to face him. “Then why didn’t he just tell us that?” she asked angrily.
“Did you try calling him?”
“No, my cell phone is in the bay, remember?”
“You do have a landline, sis,” Tripp said as he pointed to the phone on her nightstand.
“I’d rather not,” Carson said. “Can you call him?”
“I’m not sure what to say.”
“Ask him if we can join him wherever he is,” Carson said.
Tripp’s first response was a deep sigh. Knowing Carson could only focus her anger in one direction at a time, he finally said, “You’re just as upset at Dad as you are at Mom.”
Carson retreated a step, stunned by his words. She hadn’t really considered that possibility and pondered it. “You’re right—probably more so.”
“That’s okay,” Tripp said quickly, not losing his momentum. “Let’s get our stuff packed and get ready to head somewhere safe. I have no doubt whatsoever that Dad has a plan—” He suddenly stopped as something outside grabbed his attention. Carson peered out the window.
The sun had
disappeared, but even in the dusk they could clearly see the vessel on the sound. It was running with minimal lighting, just enough to let other craft know it was there. It moored at their parents’ boat ramp. Their dad’s missing boat was a reminder that things hadn’t gone the way any of them had anticipated.
“Mom has company,” Tripp said. “It appears to be a fishing trawler.”
They watched the incoming vessel. From their vantage point, however, it had become partially hidden by their parents’ house as it docked on the private pier of the canal that ran north and south. Carson waited a moment longer for the back security lights, which were motion triggered, to come on. They did after a few seconds. “Who the hell is that?” she said.
“Good question,” Tripp said and headed for the door. Carson followed closely behind him.
***
Carson and Tripp hurried downstairs. Sanchez, who was scanning the surrounding area, turned suddenly as he heard their feet rushing down the old wooden steps. He instantly knew something was wrong and approached them. “What’s up?”
“A boat just arrived at Mom and Dad’s,” Tripp said with noticeable concern.
Sanchez produced a two-way radio. He adjusted a knob or two to ensure it was working correctly, as if expecting to hear from someone about visitors. Soon he determined it was on. “Let’s go check it out.”
Sanchez led the way, with Tripp then Carson behind him. When he arrived at Jack’s house, he made his way through the side gate and headed toward the back patio. Hugging the wall, he motioned for the others to do the same while he peered around the corner.
The back patio was roomy, with a Jacuzzi, two wicker couches, and several chairs surrounding a brick fire pit. Illuminated by the security light, the rear iron gate was open. Beyond it were stone steps, which led to the pier. Voices could be heard nearby and Sanchez moved his head farther around the corner to get a look at who was there. Then the light went out.
Sanchez retreated and bumped into Tripp. “Shit,” he said softly and then wished he hadn’t. They held their breath and listened. The talking ceased but started again, the voices still low. They all took a deep breath and sighed in relief.
“Who is it?” Carson whispered.
Sanchez wanted to shrug to show he had no idea, but the action was pointless in the dark. He moved his face closer to Tripp and Carson so he could speak softly. “Not sure, but I was hoping—”
“Don’t move!” shouted the voice as bright lights hit them from both sides. The men who had flanked them were silent. Although blinded by the light, they all assumed guns were trained on them; three sets of hands went up.
After Sanchez was disarmed, they were corralled to the patio and escorted through the back door into Jack’s private study and told to sit. The two men who had apprehended them were dressed in black and holding automatic rifles with flashlights under the barrels. Both had short hair and were clean-shaven, one dark skinned and the other with a lighter complexion. They each had an earpiece in their ears.
“Great, more professionals,” Carson said a bit too loudly.
She looked surprised when one of the men, the darker one, smiled at this. He stood guard as the other went into their family’s hallway. He came back with a much older scruffy-looking man with a salt-colored beard and hair. The man nodded to them.
“Poppy!” Carson yelled and scrambled to her feet. She was the only one who called him that.
Pops Page motioned to the two younger men to leave the room. He handed Sanchez back his weapon while Carson squeezed the air out of him from behind. He chuckled as he struggled to turn around and hug her back. “Baby girl, I hear you’ve had quite the adventure.”
“You have no idea, Poppy.” She held her embrace. “You scared the crap out of us.”
Tripp also grabbed him from the other side and administered an awkward hug. He stood a few inches taller than the older man. “We’re relieved it’s you, Pops.”
“I forget how big you are,” Pops said.
Tripp looked at him curiously; he had been the same size for years. “It just makes me a conspicuous target, I suppose,” he replied.
Pops gave his grandson a quick slap on the back.
“You gonna save the day, Poppy?” Carson asked.
“I am,” Pops said. “Got your things?”
“We were interrupted when we saw your boat arrive. How did you get here so fast?”
“I took a seaplane over from the keys.” He paused and put his hands on both of Carson’s thin shoulders, locking his dark, steely eyes with hers. “Baby girl, I know you feel you’re being kept in the dark. Trust me when I tell you that some things are better left unsaid.”
Carson smiled weakly. “I wish there was more trust in this family, Poppy.”
Pops cleared his throat. “I understand. One day, we’ll be able to have a beer and talk about it.”
“Is it the kind of thing that can get a person whacked?”
“It is, but you’ll be safe with me.” He winked and then walked to the door. “I’ll have one of the boys take you back home to get packed.” He turned his attention to Sanchez. “Rick, there’s something we need to discuss.”
Sanchez knew the tone of that voice. He left without another word, behind Pops.
***
Confused, the twins were left standing there.
“So,” Tripp said hesitantly, “it seems Pops and Dad are in agreement when it comes to Page family secrets.”
Carson wrinkled her nose. “So it seems. Guess we’re about to take a journey of discovery.”
“Perhaps we’ll obtain a better understanding once we reach our destination,” Tripp said.
“Oh sure.” Carson rolled her eyes. “We’ll be kept in the dark as we’re herded off. Why should we expect anyone to tell us anything once we’re locked safely away?”
Tripp had to admit this was a likely scenario but felt uneasy about where the conversation was headed. “Their priority is to protect the family.”
“I’d suffocate under their protection. I’m not a scared little girl anymore.”
“We’re at a crossroads, sis. What are you suggesting we do?” Tripp asked, convinced his fears were grounded in truth.
She smiled thinly as she backed up toward the glass door. She slid it open along its track without looking behind her and stepped halfway through. Casually, as if for effect, she leaned on the door frame. “I suggest we go find answers.”
“How do you suppose we can accomplish that?” Tripp said, more loudly than intended. “I recommend we get moving before more unscrupulous men with large caliber weapons show up.”
“I agree.”
“No,” Tripp said and walked toward her. “I mean leave with the people who will get us out of the line of fire.”
“That choice will never lead us to the truth,” Carson said. She edged a bit farther out the door, as if teasing him.
“Let me suggest that ignorance might just be preferable to death.”
“I’m tired of being ignorant, dear brother.”
“You can’t possibly be tired of it, Carson. You’ve only just realized how ignorant we are about our family’s murky past.”
“True, but think of how long we’ve already been kept in the dark. Do you want to go the rest of your life not knowing who you really are?”
Tripp paused. He knew his sister could find the courage to do just about anything. “I know who I am, Carson. I don’t need to find a secret passage in the Page family history book to tell me that.”
With a deflated look, Carson exhaled loudly. “Well, I thought I’d try. You take care of Mother while Daniel and I go find some answers.”
The very thought terrified him. “Bad idea.”
Carson held her hand up defiantly. “No, no, you stay if you want. The worst that can happen is I disappear. You’ll grow old wondering what happened, wishing you’d been there for me.”
Tripp stared at his sister in disbelief. He had to remind himself how effective she was
at laying on the guilt. “Even for you, Carson, that’s simply absurd.”
“Dear brother, you have a choice to make. Either come with me on this voyage of discovery or stay behind. I’m leaving in two seconds.”
Tripp put his hands over his face and fumed. He thought of all the times his sister had talked him into doing something he would later regret, including their adventure that day. He wanted to say no. He wanted to join his mom. He knew, however, he was going to do exactly what Carson wanted him to do.
FOLLOWING BREADCRUMBS
Daniel searched Tripp’s desk, a far easier task than trying to find something at his own workstation. He quickly located the burner phones in an entire drawer dedicated to phones and other electronic devices. He sifted through the assortment and chose two that would work. He pocketed them, along with their chargers, and headed back to his own desk to check on the progress of his application.
“Damn,” he said as he read the screen. The graphical image of a laughing red skull and crossbones had but one meaning: his attempt to hack the phone had failed. He sat in the swiveling desk chair and growled at the image that taunted him. He chewed on the nail of his index finger, his eyes fixated on the screen and his mind wandering through various possibilities.
The sound of knuckles tapping against glass pulled him back to reality. Daniel peered around his monitor to see Carson standing at the front glass door. It typically wasn’t locked, but because of recent events he was more cautious.
Opening the door, he stepped aside to avoid Carson and her stuffed backpack. He held it for a moment, waiting. When he realized Tripp wasn’t there, he closed and secured it again.
“You locked us out,” said Carson. She tossed her backpack on the small couch Daniel had acquired from a thrift store. It wasn’t much, but it would comfortably sit a couple of potential clients—hypothetically anyway.
“Just you,” said Daniel with a grin. “Your brother knows the code. Speaking of Tripp, where is he?”
“He’s gathering his things. Dear brother first wanted to make sure I packed this time. Do you know how creepy it is to have your brother go through your underwear drawer?”