Maggie's Image (Maggie McGill Mysteries Book 1)
Page 6
“You said he had an accent?”
“Yes, he had a slight accent. I am guessing Middle Eastern again. He was wearing western clothes. No turbans this time . . ..” Maggie stopped. She became very still, her mouth slightly open. It seemed that she had stopped breathing. Slowly she raised her eyes to Allie and Cavanaugh. “You know, I think the man in the gallery may be the guy who was on the flight. He looked different without the turban, but . . . yes, I think it was the same man.” To Cavanaugh, “Do you remember seeing a turbaned man on the flight?”
Cavanaugh smiled. “Oh yes, Mrs. McGill, I remember him. This confirms what we had assumed. Thank you.” He stared at the tiled floor for a moment. Peering up under his lashes at Maggie, he asked, “What about the picture? Any idea what that was about?”
Maggie shook her head, “None at all.”
“Now, Mr. Cavanaugh, would you answer a few of our questions?” Allie stood straight and tall, her arms crossed.
“Any that I can, Miss McGill,” Harry Cavanaugh said with a smile.
“You followed us from San Francisco to Big Sur?”
He nodded.
“Why did you ask for us at the lodge? That seems a strange thing to do.”
“Not only strange, it wasn’t real smart, er, that is, professional. There were some interesting types staying at that lodge. It was like a parade from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Thanks to you, it was the scenic route. Actually, I was following the car that was following you. I got there just as the No Vacancy sign went up. So I had the pleasure of spending the night in the car.” Harry stretched his neck to one side. “Not the most comfortable night I’ve had. It was damned cold. But I was lucky to get something to eat. I don’t think our friends made it to the drive-in in time.” He grinned at the memory.
“The green car,” murmured Maggie.
Harry continued, “The next morning I couldn’t find you two anywhere. Your car was still there. When I found that damned trail I panicked. I started down the trail much too fast and then I saw Ahmed coming up in a hurry. I had a few uneasy moments until I saw a couple farther down on the trail. They were good news for the two of you.”
“Oh dear,” Maggie said. “But who is Ahmed?”
Harry Cavanaugh passed his hand over his face as if to brush away the fatigue, “Ahmed is one of the leaders of the group we’re checking out. We suspect there’s a higher-up. But Ahmed’s the closest we’ve been able to get to the top. The other person has kept a very low profile. We don’t know what he . . . hell, we don’t even know for sure whether it’s a man or a woman . . .. We just know that this top person exists.”
Allie sat down in a wicker chair and motioned Cavanaugh to do the same. “But no one followed us when we left the lodge. I made very sure of that.”
Cavanaugh sat down and sighed again. “I followed the others but they lost interest in you at that point. We were pretty sure where you were headed and we were very interested to know where they were going. As you may know there’s more than one way to keep track of an automobile.”
“This is too much! You had one of those things on my car?”
“Yeah, ‘fraid so.
“Were you in the big black car?” asked Maggie.
“No, we were tracking it,” Cavanaugh said.
“But it went right on by us in Santa Barbara.”
“Yeah, we’re not sure why they did that. Maybe they spotted us.” Cavanaugh sat silent for a moment and then changed the subject. “Anything else we should know?”
Maggie decided she trusted him after all. Eyes don’t lie. “Well, if you heard the phone conversations, you have most of the story.”
Allie frowned thoughtfully, “Mom, how about the rock in the Tea Garden?
Maggie looked at Allie and then at Cavanaugh, “I thought it was just an accident.”
“Tell me what happened and let me decide that,” Cavanaugh encouraged.
As Maggie told him about the rock incident, Harry became quieter and more thoughtful. “It’s hard to say for sure, of course, but I’m inclined to be suspicious of it. Let us do a little investigation. Did you report it? Did you make an official complaint?”
“No. I thought it was an accident. I wasn’t hurt. I didn’t want to make a fuss. I’m on vacation after all.” Maggie smiled weakly.
“Yeah, vacation. Well, I’ll look into it,” Cavanaugh said grimly.
“What happens next? What should we do?” Allie asked. “Can you arrest these people?”
“No, we don’t have any proof that they’ve done anything illegal. We suspect there may be bigger things in the works. We want to watch them for a while and see what happens.”
“What about the break-in at my house?” Allie asked. “That was illegal.”
“Yes, it was. Whoever did it probably was a pretty small fish. We want the big guy. We know there is one. We suspect he or she might be behind the break-in at your house, but that’s not the way to find that person,” Cavanaugh explained patiently. “I wish we could figure out what they’re looking for. That’d be a big help.”
“Don’t you know? In the gallery he said it was a picture. But for all we know, it could be a work of art or a photo or anything. Believe me, if we had any idea about that we’d let you know,” Maggie said.
“Yeah, it’s pretty scary knowing there are people out there watching us and wanting something from us and we don’t have an idea who they are or what they want or what they may do next,” said Allie.
“Yeah, I know how you feel. Well, we’ll keep a closer eye on you than before.”
“That, I guess, should make us feel safe?” Allie said.
“I hope so. There’s another alternative. We could put you up in a safe house. That should be fairly secure.”
“What do you mean, ‘safe house’?” Allie asked.
“Oh, we’ve got a house or two, staffed by our people, where folks in trouble can drop out and be protected,” Harry answered.
“Safe. Like being in prison. No, thank you.” Maggie shuddered at the thought.
“The alternative is something like being a worm on the end of a line,” Allie said, looking at her mother. “The choices aren’t that great. Are you sure, Mom, that’s the one you want?”
“I think so. Neither alternative would be my first choice. But what about you? How d’you feel? If you opt for the safe house, I’ll go along with it. We could catch up on our reading or something.” Maggie looked back at Allie.
“I’m with you, Mom. No prisons for me. Scary as it is, I’d rather not be cooped up. Besides, I’m beginning to feel really angry. I’d like to find these guys and . . .. Well, I don’t know what, but I’d like to do something.”
They turned to Cavanaugh. He stood up, “I don’t know whether you two are very brave or just foolish, but I understand how you feel. We’ll do all we can to protect you. As for doing ‘something,’ leave that to us. I’d like you two to continue just as you would if this were not happening. That is, I’d like you to look as normal as possible. Please don’t take any unnecessary chances. Stay together. Try not to wander out alone. No more steep mountain trails, please.”
“Okay. We’ll be careful. How can we contact you if we should need to?” asked Allie.
“We’ll be close by. I’ll give you a number. Use it only if you have to. It’s a direct line. Ask for Harry. Give your name and location. I’ll get back to you. I want both of you to memorize this number, don’t write it down. Now repeat it after me, 213-555-6366.”
Dutifully the two women repeated the number several times.
Maggie nodded, “We’ve got it.”
“I must go. I have been here too long already. By the way, the green car’s gone. I got something less noticeable and considerably faster. Wait here a few minutes and then just do whatever you’d normally do.” With that Harry Cavanaugh walked quickly along the loggia and down the beach a few houses before he disappeared behind one of them.
Allie raised her eyebrows and gave a long, low whi
stle, “Wow! Shades of James Bond!”
Maggie laughed. “Some James Bond! I don’t know when I’ve seen a more nondescript, innocuous appearing person.” She thought for a moment. “But maybe that’s as it should be. He did seem to know what he was doing. At least, I certainly hope so. Do you feel frightened, Allie?”
“Not now. Just sort of excited. It’s getting real interesting. At least some of the mystery is solved.”
“Ditto,” Maggie said vehemently.
“Do you think we’ve waited long enough? Let’s go.” Allie got up and moved toward the large wooden doors.
***
In the car Allie said, “That’ll be a hard act to follow. But is there anything special you’d like to do now?”
Maggie grinned at her and glanced in the side mirror as they pulled onto the highway. She watched Allie also checking the mirrors. “I wonder if I’ll ever be in a car again without checking the mirrors. Well, I don’t care what we do next. Something peaceful and unexciting, please. Is there anything you need to do?”
“Not really. The photography business is caught up right now. Friday I’ll need to pick up some prints and send them out, but right now nothing is pressing.” Allie found an opening in the heavy traffic and the little car shot ahead.
Again each of them checked the rearview mirrors. “If anyone is following us I don’t see them,” Maggie said. “I keep thinking about our conversations at your house. I wish I could remember all we said. Even though I accept their reasons for bugging it, I can’t help feeling violated. Do you feel that too?”
“You bet I do. I don’t even want to go home. That’s a weird feeling. My house has been such a haven for me. It doesn’t feel safe or comfortable anymore.” Allie’s voice sounded small and defenseless.
At last they decided on a movie and dinner before going home. The movie was light and funny. They lingered over dinner. Finally, when they could put it off no longer they headed back up the PCH, the car growled up the winding streets and they were home. They passed a utility company van. “Versatile, but hardly creative.”
On the deck they sipped tea and watched the last of the sunset’s red glow fade from the sky. As they watched, the ocean changed from burnished gold to deep red to black. Below them lights came on and sparkled in the night. There seemed to be little more to say. Anyway, it made one self-conscious knowing that some unknown person could hear one’s every word. So, after double-checking doors and windows, hot showers and bed.
Under the down comforter, Maggie thought about the day. She thought this certainly was the most exciting vacation she’d ever had. She wondered about tomorrow, prayed for their safety, for the safety of Andre and Brigitte, and finally gave begrudging thanks for the protection of Harry Cavanaugh and his organization. She heard Allie’s voice from upstairs, “We’re going to be okay, Mom.”
“Yes, I know,” she answered. At least I hope so.
Chapter Five
Raucous whistling and singing. Maggie opened her eyes to bright sunlight streaming in through the leafy canopy. Above the house the occupants of the canopy were in riotous voice, apparently filled with joy, welcoming the beautiful day. Maggie groaned and covered her head with the pillow. Morning was happening much too soon. Then, with a rush, the memories of yesterday’s events returned and made more sleep impossible. Quietly she rose and folded up the sofa bed.
When Allie stumbled down the stairs an hour later, Maggie, wrapped in a heavy robe, was sipping tea. “G’morning, Mom. You’re up early. What’s up?”
“Good morning, Honey. Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I had expected. Amazing.”
“Me, too. At least until your tree dwellers decided to greet the morning.” Maggie grinned at her. “As soon as you’re awake, how about a walk before breakfast?” Maggie waved her arm indicating unseen listening ears.
Allie’s eyes widened and she said, “Sounds good.” Quickly they slipped into jeans, sweaters and walking shoes.
It was a spectacular morning. The early sun slanting behind them highlighted the tops of the trees below leaving many of the streets still in shadow. Far below, a low-lying mist, resting on the water, was dissolving before their eyes. It seemed as if every bird in Los Angeles County had decided to congregate in the Malibu hills and burst into song.
“Wow! This is worth the trip, even if we didn’t need our privacy,” Allie exclaimed.
Maggie sighed with pleasure. “That’s so. I wanted to get away from the house so we could talk. That thing is so inhibiting. Now it seems a shame to talk about anything other than this marvelous morning.”
Allie nodded her agreement. “Heavenly. Thank you or thank the situation for getting us up and out here. What’s up? What’d you want to talk about?”
Maggie sat down on a rock and stared out at the Pacific. “Well, this situation. I mean, here we are, our lives are in a sort of limbo. With so much on our minds, work doesn’t seem possible and with the big EAR in the house and on the phone, just visiting is a drag. With the threat of we don’t know what, even having fun doesn’t work. I feel completely frustrated. How about you?”
Allie looked at her mother with a combination of surprise and amusement. “Mom, I agree. Our hands seem to be tied. Miserable feeling, isn’t it!”
Maggie nodded. “It comes down to a matter of control and power. We’re feeling powerless, out of control, because we can’t think of any appropriate action, even a meaningless one. It’s no fun.”
Allie looked thoughtful and said, “Yes. But do we have a choice?”
“I agree. It’s scary. Apparently there’s a lot more to this than we know. We do know, however, that the Fouchets are missing. We know that we’ve been threatened and frightened. We know that our lives are being upset in ways that we don’t deserve. It makes me very angry.” Maggie stopped for a moment, then continued, “No, not angry. It makes me furious!”
Allie grinned for a moment at her mother’s fierceness. “Yeah, me too. Well, what’re our options? Do we have any? At this point, apparently we’ve been targeted by some middle-eastern group, the CIA is monitoring our every word and move, and we don’t know what’s behind it all.” She sat on a neighboring rock and sighed.
“True. What else is true is that we don’t care for our options. But are there any other choices?” Maggie glanced at her daughter.
Allie picked up a stick and doodled in the loose soil at her feet. “Well, let’s see.” She made a “1” in the dirt and jabbed a period beside it. Then she wrote, “CIA safe house.”
“That’s choice number one.”
Maggie added, “Choice number two is stay at home with surveillance.”
Allie wrote, “2. Home.”
“Both are pretty passive choices. I wish we could find a constructive course of action that would end the mystery and let us get on with our visit.” Allie wrote a “3.” in the dirt and looked inquiringly at Maggie.
Maggie took a deep breath and said, “Of course, we don’t want to put ourselves in any more danger. I’ve certainly had as much of that kind of excitement as I want. Do you think our problems are connected to the Fouchets’ disappearance?”
“It certainly seems so.” Allie’s head jerked up and she drew a quick breath. “I just remembered. Ed promised to call yesterday. I wonder what’s happening up there. For all we know the Fouchets could have been found and the mystery could be over.”
Maggie said, “You’re right.” She hunched over, doodling flowers and shapes in the loose dirt. “We could just run away for a while. You know, go to the mountains or something until this situation is cleared up.”
Allie looked up in surprise, “D’you want to do that?”
“Not really. But it’s an option. We need to consider every one.”
Allie frowned, “Yeah, you’re right.” She wrote a “3” in the sand. “Well, that’s not exactly a complete plan, but it’s something we could do.”
They talked until the sun was high in the sky and their stom
achs were growling. The dirt in front of the rocks had been marked and wiped out many times. Finally the list was:
Options Plan
CIA safe house 1. Call Ed
Home a. find out about Fouchets
Run away b. find out about Arabs
Investigate
They agreed that the first three options were unsatisfactory. The problem was that they didn’t know how to begin their investigation beyond making the phone call.
Allie said, “Who knows! When we talk to Ed we may find out something that’ll give us a lead. All we need is a handle. Something to work on.” Then changing the subject, “Mom, I’m starving. Let’s go while we still have the strength to get down off this hill. I need to pick up my mail and we can have brunch or something at Brandon’s. We can call from there.”
Brandon’s was bright, airy and casual, open early for breakfast and late for snacks. The cuisine was pure Californian, fresh, creative and delicious. Allie assured her mother that movie stars could be seen there, but Maggie had yet to see one. Still wearing their faded jeans and sweaters, they wolfed down eggs and potatoes and many cups of tea.
After they collected Allie’s mail, Maggie asked, “What about Ed?”
Allie wrinkled her brow, “For some reason I’m a little reluctant to call. After all, he hasn’t called me. It doesn’t seem quite right somehow to tell him about Harry Cavanaugh. I can’t say why.”
“I know what you mean,” her mother said, understanding Allie’s confusion.
“Maybe I could call Ed and not tell him about Harry. What d’you think?”
In response Maggie picked up the telephone and handed it Allie. Allie punched in the numbers. “Hello, Ed. Yes, we’re fine.” She listened intently as the deep voice rumbled on. A truck roared by on the PCH. More voice rumbles. Then, “Oh, we’re out running errands”. More rumbles. “Impulse, I guess. We’ve been concerned about the Fouchets.” The call continued for a few more minutes. Then good-byes and Allie hung up.