Vials

by Alec Peche

  Instead, she went to her kitchen and retrieved a Belgian beer from her refrigerator that she knew to be 16 percent alcohol by content, removed the cap, and took a giant swig at 9:00 in the morning. Agent O'Sullivan observed her, alarm and concern warring with humor in her eyes. In the end, humor took over, and she lifted her cup of coffee to toast Jill’s bottle of beer.

  With a deep sigh, Jill re-joined the teleconference. “I checked in with my associates, and they haven't found a single issue with Graeme's partners. Angela was just heading out to work and lacked the time to give me extensive feedback of her conversation with Mr. Lott in San Juan. She is the only one of anyone involved in this case except Graeme who has met Mr. Lott. She wanted some time to give me a thoughtful summary of their meeting.

  “With this new information on the shooter's origins, I'm going to have Jo examine Lott's financials, and Marie will search for information on all of her systems. Somehow I think this case revolves around him. Something he told Graeme or requested him to do as his attorney. Graeme would be bound by attorney-client privilege yet still responsible to meet his client's needs. I asked Emma if she was aware if Graeme seemed troubled by Lott, but he rarely spoke of his work to her, and she had no new information.”

  Detective Carlson reported. "Overnight another body was located in a deserted area of the harbor. A San Juan policeman would like you to identify the gentleman. He suspects that he is Gonzales’s accomplice in the encounter with you at the harbor. His murder was very similar to Gonzales’s except that he wasn't left in the rain forest for animals and insects to feast upon."

  Jill looked at the picture attached to the e-mail from Detective Carlson.

  "Yes, that looks like him, and I’ll also check with Angela to confirm his identity. Do you know his name and what his relationship is to either Lott or Gonzales?"

  “We asked the San Juan policeman the very same question, and he is investigating that answer. I hope to have an e-mail from him before our phone call ends, and then we’ll both know.” Said Detective Carlson.

  "Let's move on and talk about the partners and employees of the law firm. By the way, Jill, we ran Graeme's family members through our computer systems, and nothing was highlighted as a problem. Likewise, we did the same with the partners and the employees of the law firm. There were a few speeding tickets and a couple of marijuana busts, which is about average for the size of that group so, at this point, we are focusing our attention on Graeme's clients. This is just a bureau confirmation of the work that you have already noted in your e-mails." Agent Ortiz commented.

  “Let's spend some time talking about Lott. Jill, you mentioned in an e-mail earlier this morning that you wanted to focus on him.” Stated Detective Carlson.

  “Yes, I am shifting my focus to him. His is one of the 400 cases that has no appeals attached to it. Give me a moment, and I’ll pull up the case document,” said Jill, while she heard computer keys being tapped in the background.

  Agent Ortiz broke into the conversation. “Jeffrey F. Lott, born in Pittsburgh, California, in 1950, retired to San Juan 3 years ago. Five-foot-seven, 200 pounds, male pattern baldness with mostly a sunburned head. Glasses. Five marriages and four divorces. Married to current wife going on 3 years. Labeled a misogynist by the media. Tried but not convicted for lying to the public, and use of tax dollars to buy off the public, union bosses, and judges. He colluded with so many public officials and prominent citizens that no one could go after him without him bringing down the house. He is thought to have concealed some 30 million dollars in the Cayman Islands from the northern California city he managed. Moved to Puerto Rico to be closer to the bank account in the Caymans and far away from the Attorney General. And those were the nice comments about him.

  “Basically, he was the smartest of a group of sleazy and corrupt public officials, so he escaped with the money and left the other officials to face the music. All of these politicians related to Lott have since been voted out of office, and a few were convicted of some crimes. The community newspaper made sure that his reputation was so tarnished by the time he left town that he couldn’t get a job elsewhere in the U.S.”

  “So what kind of legal work did Graeme provide for Lott?” asked Detective Carlson.

  “I am bringing up the case now,” responded Jill, as she searched her notes. “It was a trust document. I wonder how Graeme got involved working on Lott’s trust?”

  “What are the dates on the document? Any sense of how long he worked with Lott? I remember the Lott scandal. It began about 5 years ago in a small city in the Bay Area. It played out in the newspaper for a good 2 years and then, as all of the politicians were voted out of office, it died a quiet death. That must have been the time that Lott relocated to Puerto Rico." Mused Detective Carlson.

  "I will explore whether Graeme’s law firm had a role in Lott’s dealings. As a new member of the firm 6 years ago, he might have been assigned to Lott by the partners. Perhaps he was trying to extricate himself from handling Lott’s legal affairs. We have legal advisers at the FBI, and we will have them review all of the legal transactions handled by the firm for Lott. I hope to have an answer back about that this afternoon." Stated Agent Ortiz. "Let's schedule another call about mid-afternoon so we can all discuss any new information about Lott.”

  Chapter 18

  Jill hung up the phone thinking of Lott. He sounded like a completely corrupt official. The opposite of what Graeme appeared to be. So what was the connection? Corruption was one thing, but murder seemed like a whole other level of criminal behavior. It sounded like Lott had sufficient funds to hire an assassin to do his killing for him. He behaved more like an intellectual bully and white-collar criminal than a murderous one. She would see if Jo or Marie had any time to look into him from a financial or personal perspective.

  Just then an e-mail arrived from Angela regarding Lott. In the rare instance that Angela had something negative to say regarding another person, her criticism was generally couched in the mildest adjectives possible. Jill kept that in mind when reading Angela’s e-mail.

  At the time I met Jeffrey Lott, I took him at face value, expecting him to express sadness over Graeme’s death. He did express regret. But now that I think back to his actual words, I think he commented he regretted that we had to investigate his death not the death itself...He tried to look down his nose at me despite the fact that I was 3 inches taller than he was. Although I can't specifically tell you why, I don't think he was telling the truth. Maybe there was a secondary meaning to all of his words, I couldn't tell. I asked him for his impression of Graeme's frame of mind when they met, and he said “Graeme seemed preoccupied about “something” and I assumed it was his upcoming wedding”. He stated that with the faintest of smirks, which I hadn’t thought about until you asked. I had my answers, and I didn’t like the man, so I brought the conversation to an end.

  On a secondary note, he lived in a lavish colonial house with views of the Atlantic Ocean, a Puerto Rican version of the mansion that Graeme inhabited. As land was cheaper, the grounds were far more extravagant, and the interior had too much bling for my taste.

  If I think of anything more, I’ll drop you another e-mail. Got to run. Angela.

  Angela's e-mail confirmed that Lott was worthy of further investigation. There was just something not right there. Jill did a search and located a picture of Lott. She decided to try a technique that she had seen on television cop shows. As she was unable to visit her local office supply store with her shooter on the loose, she pulled out a box of freezer paper to create a sort of bulletin board on her office wall. She taped to the thick white freezer paper pictures of everyone involved in the case. She had a picture of Graeme St. Louis, Emma Spencer, Luis Gonzales, Jeffrey Lott, Aleksandra Gora, the as yet un-named man found dead in the harbor in San Juan, Angela, and herself. Then she rearranged the pictures to create a family tree, a visual of all the players.

  It was late morning, and Jill had just gotten off the phone with Nat
han and was starting to think of lunch. As she stood to go to the kitchen, the power went out. Oh, no. Aleksandra must be in the neighborhood. It was just too coincidental and she hadn't heard from her in the last 24 hours.

  Using her cell phone, she called Agent Brown, who was supposed to be outside on surveillance. There was no answer. She ran up the stairs to wake up Agent O’Sullivan. Just as she reached the agent’s bedroom door, she felt fresh air on her arms, indicating that the front door had been opened.

  Jill slowly peered over the railing and caught a glimpse of Aleksandra. She was grateful for the carpet in her upstairs hallway that muffled the sound. She slid into the agent’s bedroom and shook her awake.

  She said softly “Aleksandra is in the house. Agent Brown is not answering his phone.”

  Agent O'Sullivan seized her gun, making sure it was cocked and loaded.

  She tossed her cell phone to Jill. "Dial 911 and alert the Sheriff, then phone Agent Ortiz and report the situation.”

  Agent O'Sullivan checked to make sure the bedroom door was locked and then looked out the bedroom window to see if they could escape. She pulled a rope from her bag of FBI supplies and tied it to the bed to brace Jill as she exited the window backwards and she swiftly followed. It was awkward getting over the edge of the first story roofline but Jill was glad for her arm and leg strength. The Agent knew they couldn't stay there flattened against the house. She grasped the clutch-piece strapped to her ankle, removing it from its holster and gave it to Jill.

  She then leaned in and said to Jill, “Do you know how to use it?”

  At Jill’s nod she directed. "Jill, I want you to follow the house around until you reach the front. I'll be right on your heels but surveying the area for Aleksandra. When you reach the front, you will have 10 yards in the open before you reach the barn. Look up, and see if you spot her. If not, sprint like it’s the Olympics and take cover. Use the gun if you need to. Remember, she's an expert shot. If you meet up with her, shoot to kill because you won't get a second chance."

  Jill swallowed hard and, following the agent’s instructions, edged towards the front of the house. She heard sirens in the distance heading her way. She estimated that it would take 1 to 2 minutes for the squad car to arrive. She peered up and saw the edge of the barrel of a gun through the glass of the master bedroom window. Agent O'Sullivan also saw the gun and pulled Jill back from the corner of where the front met the side wall of her house.

  The agent contacted the 911 dispatcher to warn the approaching squad car of the shooter on the second story. The deputy turned off her siren, entered Jill's driveway, and parked the squad car behind one of the outbuildings. Jill saw from a distance that it was Deputy Davis. The deputy retrieved her bullet-proof riot-gear shield from her trunk and a rifle, in addition to having the gun at her waist.

  Two additional sirens could be heard coming their way. Deputy Davis weaved her way around Jill's buildings carrying the clear plastic shield so that Jill could use it to defend herself from bullets. Yesterday, a Kevlar vest had been provided to her as soon as the agents began guarding her, but her head and neck were vulnerable.

  They stayed flattened against the house, Agent O’Sullivan on one side and Deputy Davis on the other, sandwiching Jill in the middle with the shield mostly protecting all of their heads from an overhead shot. They had slim cover from the narrow roof overhang above their heads. Aleksandra would have to lean far out the window to get a good shot.

  A minute later, 3 more cars arrived, 2 deputies from the Sheriff's department and the third an unmarked car carrying FBI agents that O'Sullivan recognized.

  The moment the cars rolled to a stop, the officers exited the vehicles and ran to the house in an erratic manner in case the shooter was aiming at them. They entered the house and searched all the rooms.

  Aleksandra had soundlessly vanished from the house. By the time the house was cleared by the officers, she could have been in the next county. Jill's one thought was that she was glad that Trixie and Nathan were at his house with Aleksandra in her house. She also knew that she would be moving to a safe house, because Aleksandra was relentless.

  Agent Brown had been located. He had a bleeding scalp and a concussion. He had been tied up and gagged with duct tape, and he was unconscious from the hit had taken.

  Why had Aleksandra cut the electricity again? It had given Jill the advance warning she needed to avoid the shooter. Jill called Nathan as soon as she finished giving her statement to the authorities.

  “Aleksandra Gora just left my house.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No, I was lucky. I’m trying to figure out why she cut the electricity again. That was the signal to me that she was in the area. Agent Brown was injured. She slugged him in the head, but otherwise, the cavalry rode to my rescue. I know that you were unhappy leaving me alone with the agents, but after the last 30 minutes, I am so happy that I didn’t have to worry about you or try to get Trixie out the window and down the roof with Aleksandra roaming the house.”

  “What happens next? Jill, how are you going to stay safe?”

  “Well, that is one of the reasons I’m calling you. Do you mind caring for Trixie a while longer? I’m being moved to an undisclosed location so that I am not such a sitting duck.”

  “Of course I don’t mind. I’ve been running with Trixie, and the pleasure of those runs seems to mitigate the presence of Arthur, though she still misses you. She is an easy dog to be around. Any thought on how long you’ll have to stay in hiding?”

  “I’m hoping for just a few days max. Now that Aleksandra has the FBI’s attention as well as that of Interpol, there should be resources to apprehend her. Unfortunately, she has been successful plying her trade as a sniper for years without being caught. She concerns me, but when the FBI takes her down, I bet that another hired gun will take her place.”

  “Another first. I have never dated a woman who had a contract on her head. Is this for real? Of course it is for real, as the FBI is there, but the situation is so implausible.”

  “Imagine how I feel. If I told my story to a psychiatrist, I would likely get labeled as having delusions and being a danger to myself and others. Thanks for helping me find my sense of humor about this.”

  Nathan felt her smile across the phone lines. He felt better for cheering her up, and then he returned to the business at hand.

  "I agree with you that another killer will be hired. It appears that the mastermind has hired 3 so far, the knife-wielder and stair-pusher in San Francisco, Gonzales, and now Aleksandra. If the trail goes back to Lott and he's got 30 million dollars to play with, then he can bankroll a few more hired killers. Will there be a way for me to talk with you by phone while you’re in hiding?”

  "Good question. I hadn't thought that far ahead. I’ll need to find a way to keep communicating with you, my family, and friends that is not traceable to my physical location. My mother would be on a plane from Arizona if she knew half of what was going on. I've been entertaining her with stories of my quest for Moscato perfection. I haven’t mentioned one word about this case to her. She’s somewhat active on the Internet, and I'm hoping my name stays out of the press. I will request the agents communicate with you if I can't do so myself. Miss you and can't wait for my life to get back to normal."

  She packed a bag with a week’s worth of essentials, her notes, her laptop, and a big tub of Red Vines candy. She needed comfort food in times like this.

  She locked the house, set the alarm, and glanced one last time at the vineyard. It would not need work for at least 2 weeks, and she very much hoped to be back by then. She got into the car with Agents Brown and O’Sullivan and departed for a safer location. She bet that the local Sheriff was cheering her departure, as her situation had required a lot of his resources and put the deputies at risk during the last week.

  Chapter 19

  Jill stared out the window as they drove toward San Francisco. She had assumed that the safehouse would be situated in the
city closer to the FBI’s office. It was actually housed inside an IRS building. American citizens had hated paying taxes back to revolutionary times and in the last century had taken to trying to harm the IRS. The building itself on any given day had a lot of security, which made it the perfect location to contain a safehouse, or in this case, a safe apartment. She would have no access to fresh air. The unit contained two bedrooms, one for her and one for the agents to rotate sleep shifts. There were 2 agents in the apartment. Another agent sat in the security room with building security, monitoring visitors. A fourth agent sat at the desk by which all pedestrian traffic had to pass.

  As added security, Jill's bedroom had been outfitted as a safe room. She had been instructed to go into the room whenever a visitor arrived at the apartment. Even if the visitor was an expected FBI agent, she had to stay in the safe room until she was given word that it was safe to come out. The FBI had taken her safety seriously. She had been given a script to follow when talking to friends and family to make sure that she didn't accidentally disclose her location. Secure satellite phones were available for her to use. Calls made to her Palisades Valley winery would be forwarded to the FBI for screening. Jill could return any business or personal calls deemed important.

  Jill phoned her mother and, following the script, told her how she could be reached, as she was having some work done on her landline wiring and the area had poor cellular reception. Since her mother was technologically challenged, she easily swallowed the deception. She also gave the information to Nathan. Nathan knew she couldn't be forthcoming about where she was, but he had the means to reach her, and they could stay in touch. She was free to e-mail as long as she made no reference to her physical location. Her calls to Emma had been reduced to every few days, so she could put off an explanation to her.