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Celebration

Page 27

by Fern Michaels


  “It started to go sour in the fourth year. What happened?”

  “Logan got cocky. He started acting like a drill sergeant and a five-star general. He wanted longer hours from our workers with no extra compensation. He was neither kind nor gentle. We lost all our good people. He started cutting corners, shortchanging the clients. Word of mouth was half our business. Twice he canceled tours at the eleventh hour. Our safari cruisers started breaking down. It was everything all at once. Logan didn’t seem to care. He was fed up with Africa. He used to talk a lot about how this had always been his dream to live here and run a lucrative business. Then he started calling it a nightmare. We managed to hang on for a while and keep our heads above water, but we owed everybody. Logan didn’t care. He left it to me to make all the empty promises. When your travel agent called, Logan was beside himself. He kept saying it was our chance to get back on top. I was so stupid, I went along with it. He just wasn’t the man I thought he was,” she said sadly.

  “Do you mind me asking where your five million dollars came from?”

  “A friend. Actually, Maurice was the only true friend I ever had. He was much older than me. He treated me like a daughter at first, then over the years it became a more intimate relationship. I was very fond of him, and he was fond of me. We had a very good life together. He passed away shortly before I met Logan. I lost a wonderful friend when Maurice died. I was trying to decide what to do with my life when a lawyer sought me out and said the family wanted to give me some money so that I would never cause a scandal. I never would have done something like that. I accepted the money. I banked it, got a job as a hostess in an upscale restaurant. That’s where I met Logan. He swept me off my feet. It was a rebound kind of thing. It’s my own stupid fault. I thought he loved me. I thought we were building a life together. I really don’t want to talk about this anymore, Stephen. Tell me what it is you need to know.”

  “Well, Brian is a hair away from retrieving all the records that Logan deleted. If he’s successful, we’re going to need his password. Do you have any idea what it might be?”

  “None. I’m the last person he would tell something like that to.”

  “Am I right that Logan put eight million dollars into the business?”

  “Yes. I put in five, and we borrowed another six or seven from the banks.”

  “So, we’re literally talking twenty-one million dollars.”

  “More or less,” Danela said, an edge in her voice. “If you’re trying to find some nice way to tell me it’s gone, I know that.”

  “It’s not gone. It’s sitting in a bank somewhere. My guess would be a numbered account in Switzerland. That’s if your books are accurate.”

  “They are painstakingly accurate. I made sure of that. I even listed a postage stamp if I bought it. I might be a fool when it comes to men, but I’m not stupid. Dumb yes, but not stupid. Okay, okay, so I was stupid, too. I told you, I believed in him, loved him back then.”

  “You realize you’re liable for the bank loans, don’t you?”

  “Logan pointed that out to me on a monthly basis. Are you saying I have to give the banks the twenty-five thousand dollars?”

  “No, I’m not saying that at all. What I need from you is anything at all you can remember about Logan. Any small detail, no matter how insignificant you might think it is. Brian is one of the best computer hackers I’ve ever come across. If there’s a way to find your partner, he’s the man who can do it. You’ve got two state-of-the-art computer systems, so that will make his work easier. Let’s sit down and talk. You talk and I’ll listen.”

  Danela poured herself a cup of cold coffee before she settled herself in Logan’s chair. When the sun could be seen creeping over the horizon, she got up, stretched and looked down at Stephen Douglas to see what impact her words had on him. “I don’t think I left anything out. Did any of it help?”

  “I wish I was a private detective. I’m sure there are things you said that are definite clues, but I don’t know what they are. Probably everything he told you was a direct lie. It’s the little things along the way that give a person away. We know he was married with children. It’s iffy if he’s divorced. He was a career military man. A full bird colonel. He has a very noticeable scar on his lower abdomen that he says was an appendectomy but is suspect in your opinion. He never spoke about his wife or children. He kept no personal papers or files either at the office or at home. We have to assume he had a safety deposit box somewhere. You say nothing of any importance ever came in the mail for him. His explanation for the eight million dollars was an inheritance from his family. We know he’s American but where he actually lived and grew up is uncertain. You believe the name Kilpatrick is an alias but that Logan is his real first name. Does that about cover it?”

  Danela felt like crying. She nodded. “Sad, isn’t it?”

  “Did he ever talk about his parents or siblings? Did you ever have a sense of him living on the East Coast as opposed to the Midwest?”

  “Once he said his parents always liked to go to the nation’s capital to see the cherry blossoms. I think there was a festival or a parade or something in the spring. He said they went every year. He said he never understood the attraction. Once you saw the blossoms they were the same every year. When he got older, his parents left him behind and he didn’t have to, as he put it, trudge alongside of them as they ooohed and aaahed over the trees.”

  “That might narrow things a little. A trip every year would lead you to believe the family didn’t live too far from the capital. That would place him on the East Coast or the tip of one of the Southern states.”

  “He was a farm boy with chores. He hated chores. That’s why I believed him when he said Kristine lived in the Midwest.”

  “Did he have any hobbies? There are farms in Virginia and the Carolinas.”

  “Only if you count reading. He loved to read. Sometimes he would stay up all night reading. We got fifteen or twenty magazines a month. He read them all from cover to cover. He read newspapers the same way. He was very knowledgeable.”

  “Friends?”

  “None that I know of.”

  “By the way, I almost forgot, how did you make out with our plane reservations?”

  “You leave tonight at eleven o’clock. Switching up like this gives you two extra stops with only a fifty-dollar charge when you check in. It was the best I could do.”

  “That’s good. We’ll be done here long before that. We were talking among ourselves a little while ago, Danela. How would you like to return to the States with us?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t! What would I do there?”

  “We’ll find you a job and an apartment. I think the job market might be a little better in the States. You have a valid passport, don’t you?”

  “Yes. Why would you do this for me?” Going to the United States was something she’d always wanted to do. Logan had shot down that idea the moment she broached it by saying she’d last exactly one week because all Americans were crazy. Then he went on to tell her about the muggings, the knifings, the killings, and the carjackings that went on even in small cities.

  “Just because we want to help you. Look, we were booked on one of your competitor’s safaris and they canceled on us. The travel agent called everyone she could think of. No one would take us on. Yeah, we would have gotten our money back but even if we could find some other safari to take us, it would have been February at the earliest. But after New Year’s, the shit hits the fan and we don’t have time to take a deep breath until April sixteenth. We eat on the run, sleep in snatches, and work our asses off. You gave us a hell of a once-in-a-lifetime memory. The fact that you were so nice and went that extra mile for us didn’t hurt either. To you, because you’ve done it hundreds of times, it’s old hat. We’ll never do it again. We’re all taking home a memory we’ll never forget. What kind of people would we be if we left you here to flounder? That’s just not who we are, Danela. If I were you, I’d take that twenty-five grand o
ut of the bank before they confiscate it. So, what’s your answer?”

  “Oh, yes. Yes, I would love to go to the United States. What about”—she waved her hands about—“all of this?”

  “You leave all of this to us. Pack your things, get your ticket, go to the bank and come back here. We need some more food and coffee, too.”

  Danela literally danced her way out to the safari bus. “Thank You, God. Thank You so much. I didn’t mean it when I said I would kill Logan. Maybe I’ll just cripple him.”

  When Danela returned to the office with lunch it was past one o’clock. The accountants were waiting for her, sprawled every which way in the cramped offices. She passed out thick sandwiches, potato fritters, pickles, and coffee. “Are you finished?” she asked hesitantly.

  “We’ve done as much as we can do here. We photocopied everything from the ledgers. I can give you the short version and then the long one on the plane. Brian here is the brains of this outfit, so I think I’m going to let him explain what we’ve found out.”

  Brian Lucas ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes wild. “First things first. I want you at the airport when I start hacking this computer. What I’m going to do is very, as in very, illegal. It’s imperative that you be nowhere around here while I’m doing this. You are going to need witnesses who can say you were at the airport. Leave the bus for us. You take a taxi or, if you have a car, use it and leave it at the airport. A taxi driver will log the time. Mention time, look at your watch. Stop for gas, again, look at your watch, mention time. This is your business and you’re a full partner. Anything that goes down here will make you liable, but not if you aren’t here. As soon as we get the information we need, I’ll crash the hard drive. I’ll overnight the disks from the airport just in case some overzealous cop gets called in by the Defense Department or the banking industry. I know diddly squat about how this country operates. I’m going to do it right before we leave for the airport. I’ve got everything all set up. Are you following me?”

  “More or less. What exactly are you going to hack into?” Danela asked.

  “The military’s files. I’m going to find out who Logan Kilpatrick is. I can access his medical records as soon as I find out who he is exactly. I’m doing it by sections of the country. If he was a full bird, that cuts down my work. If I can figure out his password, I can crack his bank account and get an address for him. That’s where you come in, Danela. You need to give me words, phrases, things that might be helpful. Without his password all we can find out is his military background and where his ex-wife and children live. We won’t find him. Now, start thinking.”

  Danela’s voice was full of awe. “You can do all that?”

  “And more,” Brian said proudly. “Hell, kids hack into the DOD all the time. Anything is possible in this computer age. You just don’t want to get caught. Okay,” he said, flexing his fingers, “start talking.”

  “It could be a word in Swahili. Try Kristine. That was his wife’s name. I never knew the names of his children. Try dream. Coming to Africa was a dream of his since he was a boy. Maybe it’s bird or colonel. Lord, I don’t know. Sex. Scotch. Trust no one.”

  Two hours later, Brian called a break. “We’re trying too hard. Usually it’s a word that is common. Something obvious. You knew the man, Danela, think.”

  “I am thinking. Jasmine. He loved the scent of it. He liked gardenia, too. He hated snow but he loved to walk in the rain. He loved the rainy season here. Reading, books. Magazines. Print.”

  At four-thirty, frustrated with her inability to contribute what was needed, Danela, said, “National Geographic. Logan loved that magazine. He said he used to snitch them from the library at school. Try school or library.”

  “Bingo! That’s it! We are in, ladies and gentlemen! Lookee here!” Brian chortled.

  The accountants and Danela crowded around the computer. “Here’s your money, Danela. I say we move it out right now.”

  “Nah. Let’s let it sit for a while. We don’t want to tip our hand. If he’s the kind of guy I think he is, he’s going to be checking that account on a daily basis. We need to get Danela set up somewhere safe first. Twenty-two million dollars is a hell of a lot of money,” Stephen said happily. “I wonder who it really belongs to.”

  “Not him, that’s for sure,” Danela said. “I can’t believe you found my money. Merciful God, how can I ever thank you? What was the word, library or school?”

  “Neither. It was NatGeo, for National Geographic. I told you this guy could do it!” Stephen said, giving Brian a high five. “It’s a hell of a Christmas present, Danela. Once we get to the States and wire that money out, you are going to need one first-class estate planner, and we know the best.”

  Danela started to cry. “I’m sorry, I’m just overwhelmed. I never thought I’d see that money ever again.”

  “We’re going to deduct the interest, too. So, it’s more than five million.” Brian chortled. “I wish I could see that bastard’s face when he pulls up his account only to find it five mil short. This, ladies and gentlemen, goes under the heading of a good day’s work.”

  “Hear, hear!”

  “Okay, Danela, head for the airport and remember what I told you. We’ll see you in a few hours.”

  Danela walked around the room kissing each of the accountants, effusive thanks bubbling from her lips. When she got to Stephen, she said, “You are a very kind man, Stephen. Perhaps someday I can do something just as wonderful for you. Merry Christmas, everyone.”

  They watched her leave, broad smiles on their faces. “I don’t know why or how I know this, but that guy is headed Stateside. Trust me on this,” Brian said.

  “I say we clean out the prick’s entire account except for $25,010. Let him see how it feels. All in favor, say aye!” one of the accountants said.

  “It’s a thought.”

  “We could go to jail for this, not to mention losing our licenses,” Stephen said quietly.

  “That’s true, Oh Mighty Leader,” Brian said. “Who is your money on, him or us? Somebody on the run like the colonel ain’t going to squawk too loud, especially if he’s on the run. All we’re doing is looking for an address, a way to track him down. We’ll deal with the bank and Danela’s money when we know more. He’s probably already figuring his next angle. As sure as I’m sitting here, I know he’s heading Stateside. By the time we get on that plane tonight, his future is in our very capable hands. You interested in Danela, Stephen?”

  “Shut up and take a nap,” Stephen said. I could be, was his last conscious thought before drifting into an uneasy sleep.

  15

  Logan signed the Hyatt’s registration form with a flourish: Justin Eberhart. He looked around the gaily decorated lobby trying to remember if this grand hotel was on Capitol Hill the last time he was Stateside. He rather thought it wasn’t. He smiled at the desk clerk as he reached for the card keys to his room.

  “How long will you be staying with us, Mr. Eberhart?” the pretty clerk asked, an interested look in her eyes.

  “My business should take me a month. Right now I need to do some last-minute Christmas shopping.”

  “We have some excellent shops in the hotel, sir. The gift wrapping is exquisite. Enjoy your stay.”

  Logan tipped the bellboy generously before he closed and locked the door to his suite of rooms. First things first. He withdrew the small folder with the extra card key and the key to the safe that stood alongside the portable bar. The computer disks with all his banking information were nestled inside a padded manila envelope. His touch was just short of reverent when he placed the envelope inside the safe, locked it, and pocketed the key. It would never do to keep the disks at the farmhouse, and taking the room for a whole month was something he’d planned on the long flight. Not only was it essential to his plan, but he might want some privacy at some point along the way. Kristine had a bad habit of smothering him, wanting to be at his side twenty-four hours of the day. There was no reason to b
elieve her habits had changed over the years. If anything, with his return, she would be even more affectionate, more cloying, more suffocating.

  For now all he wanted was a nice hot shower, some food, and a short nap. After that he would peruse the shops in the hotel, make arrangements for limo service out to the farm for tomorrow, and voilà! life would start all over again. His way.

  An hour later, Logan pushed the luncheon cart through the door to the hallway. While it didn’t clutter up the suite of rooms, it didn’t fit the decor. He liked things neat and tidy. He double-locked the door, removed the terry robe the hotel provided, and slid naked between the crisp clean sheets. He took a moment to warn himself to sleep no more than two hours. From long years of habit and training, he would wake precisely on time. As he drifted into sleep he tried to remember what Kristine looked like. All he could see was Danela’s flaming red hair and deep green eyes. His right eye started to twitch. Danela was no passive Kristine. Danela was piss and vinegar, fire and flames, whereas Kristine was shy and quiet, eager to please and not the least bit experimental. A total wet blanket.

  A long time later, Logan rolled over, his long tanned legs thrashing the bedcovers. Even in his sleep he knew his eyes were twitching, a sign that things weren’t going the way he wanted them to go. He groaned in his sleep as he strutted up and down the parade grounds clad in his dress uniform, the stars on his shoulders gleaming in the noonday sun. In his gloved hands was the book he lived by, the book the others on the parade grounds tried to ignore.

  “You’re out of sync,” he roared.

  “So who gives a good rat’s ass,” Mike roared back.

  “I care. That’s all you need to know. You are not performing up to expectation.”

  Mike broke ranks. “I’m outta here. Stuff this drill, and, while you’re at it, shove that book!”

  “Get your ass back in line, Mike,” Logan roared again.

 

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