by Al Boudreau
“That was exciting,” Andrew said once we got settled inside the car. “Seems like this case is about to break.”
“Hopefully,” I said. “You’ll discover, as we go along, that investigative work is a cumulative task. The more you know, the more you can find out. But yes, the moves we’re making should provide some real answers.”
“I was pretty blown away by the sergeant’s ability to get Graf to talk. Kehoe is a cool cat.”
“Yeah, I like how he operates. He’s old-school, just like me,” I said, which got a laugh out of Andrew. I looked over at him once we got on the road. “Heck of a first day you’ve had. How do you feel?”
Andrew leaned back and took a few seconds to reflect. “Excited. Exhausted. Maybe a little overwhelmed.”
“Sounds about right. If Sarah had seen you in action today, I think she’d be real proud.”
“Really?”
“Yep. You and Sarah are made of the same stuff. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Let me tell you, not everyone is cut out for this type of work. But I think you’ve got what it takes. I want you to know I appreciate your help today.”
“Thanks, Carter. That means a lot to me.” Andrew stared out the window for a short while. “I’m anxious to take a look at those airport videos.”
“Man, I don’t know where you get your energy,” I said. “I know I was exhausted at the end of my first day here. That long flight … it’s a bear.”
“I’m too into this to be able to relax right now,” Andrew replied. “It gives me a rush to know we’re gaining on the bad guys.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I remember those feelings … barely.”
My comment drew an odd look from Andrew. “How long have you been an investigator?”
“Ten years,” I said. “But I was a cop for fifteen years before I started my PI business.” Andrew was a numbers guy, so I braced for the inevitable conversation about what I did before my stint on the Boston force. But Andrew remained silent, leaving questions about my early history alone.
Safe to say I was glad. My past was the last subject I wanted to dredge up right now.
Traffic was moving along at a steady clip. Another five minutes and we’d be at the airport. Night had fallen, and Andrew hadn’t said a word for miles. I reached forward to turn the radio off.
“Carter, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what’s the deal with Richard? What kind of work does he do now that he’s out of the investigations business?”
“He has a small consulting firm in Los Angeles. Specializes in security systems, high-end vaults, surveillance. Guess he offers monitoring, too. Lots of rich folks in his area. They like keeping their cash and valuables close at hand.” I waited for a response, figuring he was going somewhere with the question. After thirty seconds or so, nothing. “Was there a specific reason for your question, or was it just out of curiosity?”
“Well … no offense, but he seems a little like a fish out of water with this case. And I can tell he doesn’t appreciate me being here. Just by some of the things he’s said.”
“Spoken like a true detective,” I said with a laugh. “He used to be a solid PI, but I’m afraid those days are behind him. Bottom line, he’s a good guy, and a good friend. Trust me, his attitude toward you isn’t personal. My advice? Chalk it up to professional jealousy and take it as a compliment.”
Andrew nodded. “I really didn’t want to say anything, knowing that you two have history. And I don’t want to be the reason for any problems between the two of you.”
“Nah. Like your sister says, ‘Richard’s Richard.’ Don’t waste any more time worrying about him.”
“Okay, I won’t. Boy, they didn’t make this airport too easy to get to, did they?”
“Nope,” I replied, taking one turn after another. “I feel like we’re driving inside of a maze. Almost as if they don’t want you to find the place.”
We finally arrived at the main building. I was surprised by how little infrastructure there was. The runways were huge, but the buildings looked similar to those found at any run-of-the-mill general aviation field in Anytown, USA. Small, dated, and eerily quiet.
We made our way inside, pleased to discover our contact wasn’t difficult to find. He was the only one there. “You Carter?” the old-timer asked.
“Yes, sir, and this is my associate, Andrew.”
“Roy’s my name. Cop named Keyhole rung me up a while ago. Said you’d be coming over.”
I looked at Andrew. He appeared to be fighting back a burst of laughter as we followed Roy to his office. I needed to remember to let the sergeant know he had a new name.
“What day and time did you want to take a gander at?” Roy asked as he took a seat behind his desk. “This new-fangled interweb contraption makes going back in time a snap.”
I handed him the information and he began hen-pecking the keys, one by one. “I don’t type too fast,” he said, as if we might not come to the conclusion on our own.
A few minutes went by when he said, “All righty. Film’s gonna start playing up on that there television we got mounted on the wall. Take a gander over your shoulder.”
We turned and began watching. A sparse number of travelers came and went, having to pass through the building to enter and exit the airfield. “Just one camera in this facility?” I asked, taking note that the viewpoint remained constant.
“That’s right,” Roy said.
We continued to watch, noting that 90 per cent of the individuals passing through were military personnel. I was about to ask Roy if he could fast-forward the footage when my focus locked onto an individual standing just within the scope of the camera’s view. The man appeared to be having a conversation with another person, or persons, but they remained just outside the window of surveillance. “Roy, do you remember if you were here during the time frame of this footage?” I asked, my eyes still glued to the monitor.
“I reckon I was,” he said. “Here all the time. I got nowhere else to be, so I take all the shifts I can.”
“The man on the far right-hand side of the screen, standing with his back to us. Do you remember seeing him?” I asked. The man turned just as Roy stepped closer. “That’s him,” I said as I backhanded Andrew’s bicep. “That’s our guy. Walking right to left across the screen.”
“Ah, yup, yup, I remember, ‘cause he got dropped off by a good-looking woman and a young girl. He was talking to ‘em there for a spell before he left. I tried to drum up a conversation with the pair soon as that fellah walked off, but they seemed in an awful hurry to skeedadle, so I didn’t push it.”
I pulled out my wallet and flashed the photo of Amber and Terri Odell in front of Roy. “These the two you’re talking about?”
“Yup, yup, that’s them, all right.”
“Thank you, Roy. That’s a huge help. And the man they were talking to … any way you could tell me where he was headed?”
My phone began ringing as Roy turned and ambled toward his office.
“This is Carter.”
“Carter, Kehoe here. We physically located the girl. Amber Odell is here at the station.”
Chapter 21
“I’m blown away you didn’t ask the sergeant more questions about them finding Amber Odell,” Andrew said as we were on our way to Honolulu again. “I don’t know how you can stand the suspense after all the digging we’ve been doing to find this girl.”
“Part of being a professional,” I said. “Certain information just doesn’t get talked about over the phone.”
“I get it. But he didn’t say anything else?”
“Told me they found her, she was safe, and that they were taking her into custody. And I told him we were coming back into the city.”
“At this point I could probably drive from Kapolei to Honolulu PD blindfolded,” Andrew said.
“Yeah, well, remember me telling you how detective work wasn’t exciting most of the time? This is a perfect example,” I said. “Choose detective work a
s a career, and you’ll do a lot of driving.”
“It’s worth it from my perspective. I’m totally jacked right now.” Andrew sighed then asked, “If this girl’s father is dead, and her mother can’t be reached, how do the police get around questioning a minor?”
“Cops are required to make an attempt at reaching a parent or legal guardian before questioning a minor if the minor has committed a crime. And read them their rights, of course. But it’s not likely this girl has actually committed a crime, so the sergeant will probably try to have the girl’s grandmother present. If she’s not available, they’d be wise to bring in someone from child protective services to be there. Just to cover themselves.”
“I see,” Andrew said.
“You’ll learn some of this information in your criminal justice studies if you decide to go that route.”
“I’m definitely doing it. By the way, Carter, thanks for your encouragement. It helps to convince me I’m making the right decision.”
“No problem.”
* * *
Sergeant Kehoe met us downstairs when we arrived back at Honolulu Police Department. “Let’s head to my office and I’ll bring you up to speed.”
I pulled out my notebook as we climbed the stairs. Now that we were here, I was feeling anxious like Andrew. Maybe his passion was waking the fire in my belly.
Kehoe ushered us in, then closed the office door behind him. “Well, gentlemen, we got a two-for-one deal. Amber Odell is here. And her grandmother, Grace Stone, too.”
“No kidding? Did you find them together?” I asked.
“We found Amber at one of Todd Graf’s properties.” Kehoe replied. “Mrs. Stone gave it away. Said she was sick of seeing her granddaughter being treated like a human guinea pig.”
“Do either of them know where Terri Odell is?” I asked.
“Not sure. The girl seems reluctant to talk. Grace Stone said she doesn’t know where Terri is right now, but otherwise she’s been a fountain of information. Claims Terri and her boyfriend have been using Amber to test whether or not the human body will accept GPS tracking implants, long-term.” Kehoe shook his head, looking disgusted. “She also told me that the real Ellis Odell showed up on Oahu to take Amber away from Terri and her boyfriend, our fake Odell. And that backpack of cash? It was a withdrawal Ellis Odell made from his and Terri’s joint account here on the island. Our imposter stole it from Odell right before he got hit by the van.”
“Testing? Wow, that’s twisted,” I said, considering the implications, and wondering how it related to us being hired. “Do we have a name for our Odell imposter yet?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Kehoe replied. “Terri Odell and her boyfriend have done a good job of keeping that information under wraps. In fact, Mrs. Stone claims she’s never even seen the guy. Said most of the info she’s shared with us came directly from Amber. I have a female officer coming in tonight. She’s wasn’t on the schedule, but has agreed to help us out. She’s a real pro. I think she’ll be able to convince Amber to open up. And the grandmother has given her blessing, in terms of questioning Amber. Said she just wants the madness to stop.”
“Good progress,” I said. “We made some, too. Our visit to Kalaeola Airport panned out. We learned that our imposter left Oahu from the airfield. I had Roy check the flights and he texted me the information. Fake Odell flew to Maui, travelling under the name Ellis Odell. We haven’t gotten any further than that. But the kicker? Good old Roy confirmed that both Terri Odell and Amber were there at the airport when fake Odell left.”
“Nice work, fellas,” Kehoe said. “It’s not an open-and-shut case yet, but depending on how our interview with Amber goes, we may have adequate legal grounds to charge Terri Odell with Felony Child Endangerment.” Kehoe was about to continue when there was a knock on his door.
One of Kehoe’s officers popped his head in. “Sergeant, I was finally able to reach that individual you wanted to talk to in California. He’s holding on line three.”
“Right, thanks.” Kehoe picked up the receiver. “Mr. Traquair. Sorry to bother you so late.” After a string of ‘uh-huhs,’ Kehoe thanked Traquair and hung up. “Well, gentlemen, we have a name. The guy posing as Ellis Odell? His real name is Randall Blais. Traquair said Blais is a lifer in the Marines, stationed at Twentynine Palms Marine Base in California. Claims that picture was taken about six months ago, and that it was the last time he saw Blais.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I said just as Kehoe’s desk phone rang.
“Kehoe. Okay, good. I’ll be right there.” Kehoe stood up as he put the receiver down. “Time to see what Amber Odell knows. Excuse me for a minute. I’m going to brief my officer and give her this file. Then, the three of us can watch and listen in the interrogation viewing area.”
After Kehoe delivered the file, we headed down the hallway. Kehoe stopped an officer on the way. “Call Twentynine Palms Marine Base in California right away. See what you can find out about one of their recruits. Name’s Randall Blais.”
We continued on to the viewing area. Kehoe’s female officer gave him a nod when we entered. Amber Odell and her grandmother, Grace Stone, could be seen seated beyond the thick one-way mirror, inside the interrogation room.
“Carter. Andrew. This is Officer Sato,” Kehoe said. We exchanged greetings then Sato left the viewing area to conduct her interview on the other side of the glass.
I got out my notebook and took a seat. Meanwhile, Sato introduced herself to the pair, got all the legal formalities out of the way, and began her line of questioning. “Amber, what reason did your mother give you for having a tracking device implanted inside of your arm?”
The girl turned to look at her grandmother, who took her hand and gently squeezed it. “It’s okay, honey. You can tell Officer Sato why.”
Amber nodded. “My mom told me I’d be a hero if my body cooperated. And that if I let them do this to me, we’d be rich. And that I could have a brand-new car for my sixteenth birthday.” She looked back at her grandmother.
Mrs. Stone nodded and said, “Good girl. It’s okay to tell Officer Sato the truth. She’s here to help.”
Sato made a notation in her file then took out a photograph. “Amber, do you recognize this man?”
Amber nodded, but remained silent.
“Could you tell me his name?”
“Dr. Graf,” Amber said.
“Did Dr. Graf perform the surgery on you? Did he install the device inside your arm?” Sato asked.
Once again, Amber turned to look at her grandmother.
“Go ahead,” Mrs. Stone said.
“But … Mom is going to kill me if I tell.” Tears began running down the side of her face.
Mrs. Stone reached in her bag, pulled out a tissue, and dried Amber’s cheeks. “Amber, go ahead and answer Officer Sato’s question.”
Amber nodded. “Yes. He put that stupid disc in my arm. I just want it out. It burns.” She began sobbing.
Officer Sato reached out and took Amber’s hand. “It’s OK, Amber, take your time. We’re going to get you all fixed up soon, but we need to get through these questions first, all right?”
Amber nodded. “Okay.”
“Good girl,” Sato said. “Amber, we found a post on one of your friend’s social media pages. And it was sent using your grandmother’s account. It said, Love equals being treated like a dog? Hashtag Doctor Graf. Was it you who sent that post to your friend?”
Amber and her grandmother looked at one another, confusion written all over their faces. “I’d be dead if I put anything like that on the internet,” Amber said, shaking her head.
“Are you sure about this?” Mrs. Stone asked. “I wasn’t aware of it at all.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m afraid so. Does anyone else have the username and password to your account?” Sato asked.
“My daughter Terri would know where to find them,” Mrs. Stone answered. “They’re written on a pad on my desk at home.”
Sato jo
tted down some notes. “Thank you, Mrs. Stone. Okay, Amber. Just one more question and we’ll be done. Did anyone take you and keep you anywhere without your permission?”
“You mean kidnap me?” Amber asked.
Sato smiled. “That’s right. That’s what I’m asking.”
“No,” Amber replied. “But my mom made me stay hidden away at that crummy camp.”
“Amber. Mrs. Stone. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me. The department appreciates it very much. We’re done here. You’re free to go,” Sato said.
“Is my dad here?” Amber asked. “I really want to see him. I want to talk to him.”
Sato turned and looked back at the glass, then turned her attention back toward Amber. “No, your dad isn’t here.”
Mrs. Stone took Amber’s hand, stood up, and bent down to kiss Amber on the top of her head. “C’mon, honey. Let’s go.”
Officer Sato opened the interrogation room door and escorted the pair out.
No sooner had the trio disappeared from our sight, when the same officer Kehoe asked to contact Twentynine Palms entered the viewing area. “Sergeant, I reached the staff sergeant at the Marine base in California. Randall Blais is officially a deserter. The sergeant was very happy to hear from us. They’re sending a team of military chasers out here. Guess they’re quite interested in getting him back.”
Chapter 22
“I’m kind of glad Sergeant Kehoe didn’t have any new information to share about Graf yet,” Andrew said as we traveled the highway bound for Ko Ohiku. “Thankfully, they’ve still got all those boxes of files to search through, because, man, I’m exhausted.”
“Finally,” I said. “Thought I’d never see it.” I figured Andrew would try to catch a few winks on the way back, but he took out his phone and pulled up the internet.
Roughly ten minutes had passed when Andrew said, “Randall Blais hasn’t made any recent social media posts, but a longtime love interest of his certainly has.”
“Huh. Wonder if he’s cheating on this love interest of his with Terri Odell. How long ago was the woman’s most recent mention of Blais?” I asked.