Probe

by Douglas E Roff

  Emails between Madson and his colleagues eventually led Alana to the site that Madson used to store his video, and photographic trophies in the dark web; that concluded the investigation.

  Alana used a series of anonymous accounts, and foreign servers routed through governments in foreign countries to do her digital research. Nothing could be traced back to Alana or Barrows Bay. Adam used Iso access on the DL Main, so nothing could be traced back to him.

  Adam met with his father and shared the fruits of the research undertaken. Alana, though she discovered the cache of evidence, refused to look at any of it. She found her own file on Madson’s dark website. That was as far as she could possibly go.

  She said nothing to anyone except Adam who was left to decide what to do and when. Edward and Adam had recruited Carlos for an expedition south, using his contacts to pave the way.

  Now the scene was set for resolution of Alana’s nightmare. It would be over quickly.

  Chapter 50

  “What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where?” Christopher Madson was on his burner phone talking to his “security consultant”, David Wilson. Wilson, a veteran of some small police department in the LA area, had a surprisingly solid reputation for achieving results, particularly in surveillance, and missing persons. His methods either bordered on or were just this side of legal, or just stepped ever so briefly over the line; he was a careful man knowledgeable in police investigation methods allowing him to be a shadow. He could manufacture an alibi with the best of them and knew a BS cover story when he heard it. His were always plausible and delivered with finesse.

  He had worked alone for many years, but when his son asked to join the family business, he was delighted. His son could take on roles that his father was too old for or for which, at his age, he no longer seemed credible. The young man was eager and capable; he listened carefully to everything his father had to say.

  Madson was now highly agitated as he and his friends had already picked a date to visit Alana McCarthy and move her across country to the lodge in the Upper Peninsula. The lodge had been readied, and they were expecting to take their time, well over a week, to finish a job they had started almost ten years earlier. They had let her go then at the insistence of Chris Madson, who thought he would enjoy stalking and terrorizing the girl, turning her life into a living nightmare. It was an experiment in terror, and one he now regretted.

  But while the thrill of the stalk had diminished over time, the thrill of murder, and physical torture replaced the more cerebral pastime of instilling fear and anxiety. To Madson, these episodes had become less sexually satisfying. He had to imagine the fear she felt; that was simply no longer enough. He needed to watch the fear, to see it close up, as the illusion of escape gave way to final acceptance of unrelenting pain and eventual death.

  His hobby of photographing and videotaping these encounters had provided him with immense pleasure and satisfaction for years afterward. None of those women survived the ordeal, and their ashes remained littered around the one-hundred-acre property.

  It was finally time to close the loop on Alana McCarthy. She no longer interested him.

  Christopher Madson had been careful, very careful over the years. From kidnap to transportation to final disposal, Chris Madson had planned everything to a T. He left nothing to chance and worked only with his friends, all of whom had as much to lose as he if they were ever caught.

  One day, but not today he thought, he would’ve to dispose of his friends too. A terrible air accident would claim their lives leaving three widows, and an assortment of children without fathers. He would decide later if he wanted to leave the children as orphans, dallying with their moms one last time before disposing of them too.

  Chris Madson was a typical psychopath; his fantasies and actions became more aggressive, violent, and perverse the older he got. His colleagues had often suggested he slow down a bit; there was bound to be a mistake made sooner. They had all had considered dropping out of the compact they made after graduation.

  To Madson, that was betrayal, and would seal their collective fates.

  ***

  “Just what I said. They are gone. Vanished,” said David Wilson.

  “They? Who’s they? I asked you to report back on the McCarthy woman, and monitor her activities and movements. Nothing more.”

  “No, you said watch the woman and the old man. And that is precisely what I have done. They are both missing. Gone.”

  “I see. What can you tell me of their whereabouts? This is critical. The woman has something I need. The old man is useless, but important as leverage. What have you found?”

  “The old man taught at UCSD but suddenly retired. He sold his home and moved away. Not sure where.”

  “Go on.”

  “The McCarthy woman likewise sold her condo and moved away. Suddenly, without any warning. The interesting thing is the homes were sold to the same buyer, an offshore Panamanian company.”

  “Who owns it?”

  “Don’t know. Can’t get that info. Not yet. Eventually I will.”

  “What else?”

  “The McCarthy woman was to take a vacation to Hawaii with a friend, but the friend didn’t show at the airport. She went on alone, and that’s where the trail went cold. She didn’t make her return flight, so I’m guessing she’s still there in Hawaii hiding. If she is, we’ll track her down. You’ll have to authorize the expense for us to follow up or hire someone there. Up to you.”

  “What about the old man?”

  “He’s in the wind. Disappeared around the same time his daughter was supposed to return. We assume that he’s either with her there in Hawaii or they have both moved on somewhere else. I assume they are both together in hiding. It’s almost like they knew something was about to happen and got out in front of it.”

  “You may be right,” said Madson, cautiously. “But she still has something I value greatly, so maybe that has something to do with all this.”

  “Why not contact the police and let them do the legwork for you. Cheaper than hiring us to find them. If she has something that belongs to you, wouldn’t that be cleaner?”

  “Yes, but what she has isn’t an object. It’s information. I really need to find her and fast. There’s an expiration date on that information.”

  “There’s something else too.”

  “What?”

  “I had my son swing by to put a device outside her condo to track her comings and goings. We called in a phony cable order, then used an employee ID from an actual employee just in case. He went up to knock on her door and was intercepted by two men. Well dressed, with aviator glasses. Looked like the Feds. My boy talked his way out of it, but his face may be in a file somewhere now. And if they follow through with the ID badge, they’ll know he was an impostor. Just thought you should know.”

  “Thanks.” What he really meant is that David and his son were now dead men, and he would have to attend to that somehow. But such incompetence would’ve to be dealt with later.

  He continued, “You are authorized to keep looking, and retain any services you need. No disclosure about who the client is. Don’t want anyone spooked. Be careful. Just find her and fast.”

  This turn of events was highly unanticipated for Madson, although in truth it shouldn’t have been. Warning her ahead of time to build her anxiety for his enjoyment now seemed like a rookie mistake. In fact, what had he been thinking? Of course, she would run.

  The addition of David Wilson and his son to the equation was now an unnecessary bother. Fortunately, the two had never met and Wilson had no idea who he really was. He had disposed of people before; he would do it again.

  ***

  Misti was furious. Her husband was gone, her father was gone, and Edward and Edmund were likewise unaccounted for. Something was up, and she was pretty sure she knew what it was. She asked Alana what she knew, but Alana claimed ignorance. Misti knew she was lying and would have to deal
with her later too.

  For now, she expected to get the truth out of Bethy, Maria or Pops. But when she called each, they too feigned ignorance.

  Maria asked, “Are you certain they aren’t just out doing something for the project? I mean it does seem very unusual, but maybe they’re afraid to include you for your own protection.”

  “Really, Maria? And what is my father doing tagging along? Golfing in Blaine? We both know better.”

  “Are you sure he’s with them? Maybe it’s just a coincidence that he’s not home.”

  “Not hardly. Besides there are no coincidences like this in this family. Adam went to do a job and he didn’t want me along. Worse, he left without saying a word. I’m sure it was a guilty conscience coupled with fear of confrontation.”

  “Is that a bad thing? Like I said, maybe he’s just trying to protect you. He loves you Misti. He doesn’t want your soul stained in any way. I actually think it’s kinda sweet.”

  “Well, I don’t. And you’re in on this too, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’m not in on anything, and I hardly feel the need to explain myself to you. When the men get back, talk to them. This conversation is over.”

  Suddenly Maria’s tone changed from sweet grandma to someone else, someone not so nice. Maria loved Misti, and, as a woman, understood her frame of mind. But she wasn’t about to take any guff from a twenty-something child, family or not. The decision had been made; she too would now have to live with the consequences.

  Misti thought her head would implode or explode from the pressure building in her temples. Maria did know something; so too did Pops and Bethy. Her only avenue for the truth now was Rod and Cindy. She presented herself unannounced at their door ten minutes later.

  Cindy answered the door to a loud knock, a virtual pounding. In a not so friendly tone, Misti demanded, “Where are they Cindy?”

  “Where are who, Misti? What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Where are the men folk? My husband didn’t come home last night, Alana cannot find her father, Edward is missing too, and so is my Dad. You must have some idea what’s going on.”

  “I don’t, Misti. I truly don’t, but when Rod gets up I’ll ask him. Maybe he knows something I don’t. But I doubt that too. He would’ve said something to me if he did.”

  “Would you mind asking him now? I really need to understand what’s going on.”

  Rod appeared a few minutes later, looking tired and dishevelled from waking from a peaceful slumber. It was early, and Rod enjoyed his sleep.

  “What’s up Misti? Cindy said something about Adam being missing.”

  “What do you know, Rodrigo? Where are they? You must know something. You’re the only guy left here besides Pops. The other four are gone.”

  “What other four?”

  “Adam, Edmund, Edward and my dad. Are they doing what I think they’re doing?”

  “What do you think they’re doing? I don’t know for sure, but if it’s those four, you can probably guess just as easily as me.”

  “What did they tell you?”

  “About this? Nada. But they did find some stuff, through the DL Main, and I’m guessing the timetable has been moved up.”

  “What timetable?”

  “They intend to close out the final chapter in the Alana saga. But I suspect you already knew that too.”

  “Why didn’t you say something? To me, I mean.”

  “Seriously? Because I wanted nothing to do with it. And it’s none of my business. And it doesn’t concern me. Mostly, they didn’t ask for or want my help. That’s why. And for your information Misti …”

  “What?”

  “Mind your tone with me. I love u yu but not that much.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.”

  “I suggest if our friendship means anything, you’ll do more than that.”

  Misti went quiet, thinking.

  “Damn. Damn, damn, damn. I’m going to cut their balls off. One at a time”

  “If I were you, I’d go easy on those of us non-combatants. If the men are doing what I suspect they’re doing, then don’t get angry at those of us left behind. Save your ire for when the boys get back.”

  “I can’t believe this. I thought we were all past this ‘secrets’ business. But I guess I was wrong.”

  “Not my issue. Or Cindy’s. Leave now,”

  Misti turned and left, angry, feeling betrayed and left out. Good intentions or not, she had a right to know. She had a right to be there. And Alana? How could she have done this to her? Behind her back with her husband.

  Misti arrived home to see Alana and Noki sitting on the couch, talking and drinking coffee as though nothing was wrong. How could they, Misti thought?

  “I’m bitterly disappointed. In both of you.”

  Alana said, “Be that as it may, you should be grateful. Grateful that they loved you enough to protect you. Keep you from the thing they are about to do.”

  “What do you know?”

  “Nothing specific. I asked them not to go through with it, as did Noki. I asked them to leave it to the police. But Adam disagreed. He said more women might die before the police could get their shit together. No way would he allow that to happen.”

  Misti was dumbfounded. Alana knew better. At least Misti thought she did.

  “You should be happy.”

  “Tell them that yourself when they get home. And to call. I’m leaving.”

  “Where to?”

  “None of your fucking business.” Misti’s tone was angry and hostile.

  Alana and Noki looked at each other, yet neither were upset about the reaction that they knew Misti was certain to have. Alana wanted to cry, but she would wait until after Misti left. Nobody thought her reaction would be to leave. When Adam got home, when they all did, there would be hell to pay. Life in the world would be cold and miserable for a while. They each hoped it wouldn’t be a long while.

  Misti was packed quickly, in her car, and on the road down to Victoria to take the ferry over to Tsawwassen. She would drive to Blaine to confirm her father’s absence then continue on to Seattle. If they wanted her back in Barrows, they would’ve to come fetch her. And she wouldn’t make it easy on any of them. Especially her husband.

  That perceived betrayal by her husband and her mentor stung the most.

  Chapter 51

  Madson called his chums from his home phone to give them the news. Their response was unanticipated: all three thought they should drop the McCarthy matter. The stakes had been upped and it was now too dangerous to proceed. Christopher couldn’t disagree more; he would never let that bitch get away, he said. Even if he had to go it alone, without his spineless buddies.

  “We need to meet. Be over at my place tomorrow night at ten. We need to discuss our next steps.”

  The three agreed immediately to meet their friend at his home as they had many times in the past when planning outings. But someone was listening in on this four-way conversation. This news would then be passed on.

  Now the four would have company on that night. Unexpected company.

  ***

  Three men approached the massive home in La Jolla, perched high above the Pacific Ocean in the hills just to the east, in a plain dark van. The view took in the La Jolla city lights and would’ve given a spectacular view of the sea, but for the darkness. The horizon was dimly lit off in the distance.

  Adam was in constant communication with Alana, who had hacked into the home’s security company electronic system, which controlled the magnetic electric front gate, as well as the alarm system wired into every door and window. Video was present in multiple locations, and the home was about as secure as one could make it.

  The men who had undertaken the surveillance of the magnificent modern steel, and glass structure had also taken pains to reconnoiter the video and surveillance systems of the surrounding homes. By chance, the same company h
andled the neighbor’s security too, and was considered state of the art. Tight precautions were almost unnecessary in this quiet, and secluded Southern California neighborhood.

  Four home video systems were now playing loops of calm exterior traffic, each an hour or so long so as not to repeat and appear suspicious to anyone monitoring live from the central office location. The exterior traffic pattern had been filmed over several days to capture different weather conditions from wet and rainy to dry and calm. Light had been added to reflect the amount of ambient light from the moon and sparse street lights.

  Unless an alarm was inadvertently tripped, the security in the target home was now firmly under the control of one Alana McCarthy.

  Adam called her on a burner phone, its path routed circuitously to places around the world and back again. Unless someone knew precisely what they were looking for, it was unlikely any of this digital communication could ever be traced back to Barrows Bay.

  The van was parked on the quiet street in front of the home, a driver, and another man secure within the vehicle armed with 9mm Glocks, safeties off. They were not to engage with anyone unless fired upon from inside the heavily treed residential grounds and were instructed to drive off if the police or private security approached from any direction. They would rendezvous back at the front gate one hour after dropping off the three men and were to have their burner phones on at all time, set to vibrate not ring.

  The fourth man, Edmund MCarthy, was in the safe house above Old Town serving as backup communications for the three in the field. He was superfluous to the main task, but an eager, and willing participant in the evening’s activities. As the three approached the residential structure, dressed in dark clothing to mask their presence, they could hear an animated conversation in progress inside Madson’s home. They had secured the architectural plans for the home, and carefully studied both ingress and egress to and from the home and the grounds. Multiple exits were mapped out and the alternate strategies communicated to those in the van.