by Wolf Wootan
Becky
Bo’s eyes got misty as she read the note. She got up and went to the bar and retrieved the box of tissues Sam kept there. She dabbed her eyes carefully, not wanting to destroy what little makeup she had applied. She stared out to sea for a bit, smoking. Then she took a swallow of coffee and read the note again.
Becky, Becky, Becky! I would love to share your big moment with you, but I don’t know if it’s possible!
She had some phone calls to make, so she got her phone out of her shoulder bag. As a senior member of the Joint Task Force Espionage (JTFE), she rated one of the newest encrypted satellite phones. She called her boss in D.C.—Supervisory Agent Dennis Davenport—first. She told him what she would be faxing him later that morning from the Santa Ana FBI office. She asked him to have some good mathematicians analyze the equations and see if it was good enough information to get a judge to authorize wiretaps at Dynology. Dennis said that if she was right about it being part of the stolen sub engine documentation, they probably could. It could be a big break for them! Bo felt pleased. Dennis didn’t mention Mickey Malone and neither did Bo. She didn’t want to try to explain that!
After chatting with her boss, she called Carl Fenster at the Santa Ana FBI office and told him her plans. He said he would be waiting for her.
She had been pacing the far end of the deck while on the phone, so as not to disturb Sam. Now she went to the kitchen and poured a second mug of coffee. Back outside, she lit another cigarette and reread Becky’s note for the third time.
“Good morning, pretty lady,” said Sam as he walked up behind her with a mug of coffee.
Bo jumped, startled, yanked from her reverie. “Damn you! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”
“Sorry, Bo. I should have made some noise. What are you reading?”
Sam was dressed in one of his Aloha shirts, jeans, and loafers. He had showered and shaved. Bo could smell his aftershave cologne. She fought off a twinge of desire.
“A note from Becky. She wants me to come to the ceremony for her doctorates. It’s such a sweet thought, but who knows where I’ll be? Besides, it should be a family thing—just you and your parents,” said Bo, handing him the note.
Sam scanned it and handed it back.
“I’ll second her invitation. I’d love to have an excuse to see you again,” chuckled Sam as he sat down next to her with his coffee. “If you’re stuck in D.C. that weekend—and have the weekend off—you could catch the redeye Friday night into John Wayne. I’d pick you up.”
“Did you put her up to this?” queried Bo.
“Absolutely not! I haven’t seen her since she went up to bed last night. She has a mind of her own, and she isn’t afraid to be devious and manipulative to get her way,” replied Sam, remembering her tactics of last night.
“How can you say such a cruel thing about that darling girl?” snapped Bo.
“She’s darling all right, but I know her better than you do. Want some breakfast? Eggs? Melon? Toast?”
“Maybe a piece of toast and a slice of melon. I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” she answered.
“Ho! You weren’t being that considerate last night!” he laughed.
She blushed, remembering their intricate gyrations in the water last night. He disappeared into the house before she could think of a witty retort.
***
At 10:48 A.M., Sam whipped his Camaro into a loading zone in front of the building on Civic Center Drive in Santa Ana that housed FBI headquarters. He said, “Want to leave your bag in my car? That way you won’t have to lug it around.”
She answered, “I have no idea what my schedule will be. I’d better keep it with me.”
“The way I see it, you’re either going to the airport . . . or you’re staying over. Either way, call me. I’ll take you to the airport, or back to the beach.”
Bo thought a moment. She would be wise to take her bag with her and sever all ties with Sam Crown. But if she left her bag in his car, it would guarantee that she would see him at least one more time.
“Well, against my better judgment. Are you sure you won’t be tied up on a case?”
“I’ll make sure I’m not. I have a lot of office work, so I’ll be a few blocks away. If you want, I’ll take you to lunch.”
“Can’t promise that. I don’t know what I’m walking into here. I’ll call if I can break loose.”
He jumped out of the car and went around and opened the door for her. She got out and faced him.
“Don’t you dare kiss me in front of this office! I’ll see you later, one way or another.”
“Have a nice day! Cut it short if you can,” he smiled.
“See ya.”
He jumped back in his car and watched her disappear into the building. Unknown to Sam, while she was there, Bo planned to order a complete background report on him. She needed to know more about who he was.
***
Sam locked his car in his storage garage and walked down to the office. Pearl was at her desk typing on her computer when he entered.
“Oh, there you are! You’re late!” she said as he strolled over to her desk.
“So, now you’re my timekeeper? I had things to do,” he smiled.
“I’ll bet! What did you do with that pretty FBI lady?”
“Took her to the beach with me. What did you think?” he said, doing a Groucho Marx imitation.
“At gun point? Don’t tell me she went voluntarily? What was your bait?” asked Pearl, a look of disgust on her face.
“Becky. And some clues. Anything new on the Dynology tapes, by the way?” he asked as he poured himself a coffee.
“Bad news there. I didn’t have a chance to listen to the new ones on Friday. I checked this morning. There haven’t been any transmissions since Thursday afternoon. They must have found the bugs. I’ve never known one of those model X-16s to fail. Especially, not two at the same time.”
“Shit! I was hoping to get some more info about that Bobby D’Orr guy. Something that could tell me who he really is. I can’t even tail him. I have no idea what he looks like, or where he lives. By the way, I gave Agent Trout the Becky test folder, but I never mentioned our illegal bugs—or D’Orr. I didn’t want Becky and I to go to jail right now. I told her you didn’t know anything about the test either, so you’re clear if the fit hits the shan. We need to think of a way to clue the FBI in somehow. They need to get court-approved surveillance on that place. Our evidence is useless.”
“Maybe Becky’s report will help do that,” said Pearl.
“I suggested that, but who knows what they’ll really do? Any luck tracking down a list of employees at Dynology? I need something to sink my teeth into. I want that D’Orr asshole!”
“No luck so far. I have the L.A. office hackers trying, too. So far, nothing,” replied Pearl.
“OK, thanks for staying on top of it. I think I’ll go listen to Thursday’s tapes for awhile. Maybe I’ll hear something new this time.”
At 1:30 P.M., Bo called Sam on his cell phone and told him that lunch was out. They were on a conference call to D.C. with her boss—a planning session—and had brought in sandwiches.
“The good news is I’ll be through here around 4 o’clock. I turned the pirates over to Fenster and the U.S. Attorney. We may have to be deposed later—Becky, too—but not right now,” Bo said.
“Did the bastards talk? Say what it was all about?” asked Sam.
“Not a peep. High-powered lawyers showed up. Told them to say nothing, and that’s what they did. There’ll be a bail hearing, and I have the feeling that no matter how high it is, they’ll raise it—then disappear. Something’s fishy here.”
“I agree. Too bad you can’t hold them without bail. OK. Not much I can do about that, unless Carl will give me ten minutes alone with them,” laughed Sam.
“No chance of that, Sam!” chuckled Bo. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m through here.”
“That’s great! Do those guys know you�
��re shacking up with me?”
“Don’t be so crass! No. They know I was with you on the boat and I told them I met with you and Becky about the equations, but I told them I was staying with a friend. All they have is my satellite phone number for contact.”
“Good. You want to stay up here so we can have some time alone?”
“That’s very tempting, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to the beach. I should talk to Becky about her note. Not that I know what to say.”
“You’ll think of something. Becky will be happy just to see you. So the beach it is. Call me.”
***
Sam hadn’t told Pearl about his visit to Danny or the weekend attack on the boat. No use bothering her with it. Violence tended to panic her. About 3 o’clock it hit him hard: The bugs had stopped transmitting on Thursday night and they got attacked on Saturday. Was there a connection? How could there be? When they found the bugs, they would go review their security tapes. Would the tapes show Becky planting the bugs? Becky had used her real name, so it wouldn’t be hard to find out where she lived—and who else lived with her.
Or would they suspect the FBI? Who knew Bo was in town? Were the attackers after Bo? Becky? Him? The people at Dynology could surmise that whoever planted the bugs had heard too much—including the fact that Bobby D’Orr had killed Jackson.
Shit! he thought. I’ve put Becky in real danger if that’s what’s going on! How do I find out? Should I warn Bo? Maybe I should track down that Chase guy. Squeeze him hard. I have to put a stop to whatever is happening. Hmm.
Chapter 36
Monday, June 4, 2001
Santa Ana, CA
At 3:40, Bo called and said she’d be out in front of the FBI building in about 10 minutes. Sam said he’d be there. He still hadn’t decided what to tell her—if anything. He decided to wait until he had more proof that the attack at sea and Dynology were related.
He picked her up, then pointed the Camaro toward the I-5 freeway. As soon as they were out of sight of the FBI building, she leaned toward him and said, “Now you may kiss me!”
He did. He put his right hand on her knee and she covered it with her hands. She leaned into the plush leather seat and closed her eyes, a wan smile on her lips. She was getting too used to this.
***
By 4:45, Bo’s bag was back in her room. The bed had fresh linens and the room was spotless. The dress was gone.
Nikki must have been here, she thought.
She donned her bathing suit and coverup and met Sam on the now familiar deck. Becky wasn’t home yet.
“Poor kid has had a long day,” said Bo as she lit up and blew smoke skyward.
“She’s very conscientious about her work,” replied Sam. “Ready for a drink? It’s nearly 5 o’clock if you’re a clock watcher.”
“Sure. Make it a white wine for now.”
“Comin’ up.”
Bo sat on a bar stool and watched Sam prepare himself a scotch and water and a glass of wine for her.
“I suppose you can’t tell me what went on in your planning meeting,” said Sam as he put her glass in front of her.
“No can do. Not even if you were still a cop. Everything is locked down tight,” she said, though she wished she could discuss it with him.
“No prob. Just curious. Let’s move to the lounges and get comfortable. Unless you’d rather take a dip.”
“Let’s relax a minute and have our drinks. Maybe Becky can swim with us when she gets home,” replied Bo.
When they were settled in a pair of lounges, Sam ventured, “Who knew you were coming to town, Bo? You know, last Friday.”
“Why?”
“Just humor me, please.”
She glanced sharply at him, then said, “My boss and some of the support people in D.C. The L.A. SAC. Fenster didn’t know I was coming though.”
“Hmm. I just keep wondering who the target was on Saturday.”
“Probably no one. Maybe the boat. Just a random act of criminal activity. We were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“You’re probably right. Ahh! I hear Becky’s bug! She’ll be surprised—and happy—to see you!”
They heard the garage door go down, the kitchen door slam.
“Hey, Sam! I saw your car. Where are you?” they heard Becky call from inside the house.
“Out on the deck,” he yelled back.
She appeared at the slider, opened the screen, and stepped out on the deck. She was dressed in a Hunter Green suit with a short skirt, heels. Bo thought she looked very professional. Then Becky spotted Bo.
“Shit! You’re here, Bo! I was hoping you would be!”
She went over to the lounges, bent down, and kissed each of them on the cheek. “Let me get out of these freakin’ pantyhose and I’ll join you!”
She got to the door, stopped, looked over her shoulder.
“If that’s OK.”
“Certainly, dear,” said Bo. “We’ve been waiting for you. Put on a swim suit and we’ll take a dip.”
“Cool, Bo! Be right back!” Becky squealed as she disappeared into the house and ran up to her room, peeling off clothes on the way.
***
The three of them rode the waves on body boards for a half hour, Becky showing Bo some of the tricks of the trade. At 5:30, Sam advised them that he was going up to the house to start preparing things for dinner. He told them to stay in the water and enjoy themselves for as long as they wanted. They wouldn’t be eating until around 7:00, but he had some prep work to do.
Becky said, “We’ll catch one more, then I’ll come up and help you, Sam.”
“Not necessary, kiddo. Enjoy yourself.”
The women headed out to sea again, and Becky said, “I’ll show you how to get the biggest wave—the ninth wave.”
“What’s the ninth wave?”
“The ninth wave of a set is always the largest. Come on, you’ll see.”
They kicked out much further than before, and Becky showed Bo how to count the waves. While they floated, counting and waiting, Becky said, “I really like you, Bo.”
“I like you, too, Becky,” she answered, a little embarrassed at the exchange.
“Do you like Sam?” Becky continued.
Bo didn’t know how to answer that. She wasn’t sure if Becky knew anything about her sexual shenanigans with Sam or not. She hardly knew Sam the person yet, but he was growing on her.
“Of course. But you have to realize that I’ve only known him a very short time. Men and women take a long time to build a relationship. They have to know a lot about each other.”
“Not in the movies. People meet, fall in love, jump in bed, and live happily ever after. In about two hours,” giggled Becky.
“Life is not a movie, Beck.”
“Sometimes I wish it were,” murmured Becky. “Are you coming to my ceremony?”
Bo was caught off guard by the sudden change of subjects. She was remembering how she felt during the weekend, as if she were living in a fantasy movie.
“That’s something I wanted to discuss with you, dear. It’s the main reason I came back down here today.”
“I thought you came down to be with Sam.”
“That too, I guess, but mainly to see you. There’s nothing I’d rather do than be there to see you receive such a well-deserved honor, but I just don’t know where I’ll be, or what my job will require of me,” hedged Bo.
“But it’s a weekend. You shouldn’t have to work. You could fly in Friday night and either Sam or I could pick you up. I make my own money now as a TA, so I could buy you an airline ticket,” pleaded Becky.
Bo was really embarrassed now! The child was willing to spend her meager salary on a ticket—as if that was the main stumbling block!
“No, Becky, you’re not to spend your money like that! If I can arrange to come, I can buy my own ticket.”
“Whatever. Just so you come, Bo. Ahh, here’s the ninth wave! Race you to shore!”
***
>
After showering, Bo donned cutoff jeans and a blue tank top. She went downstairs and found Sam working on some Australian lobster tails.
“Just about finished,” he said with a smile. “Potatoes are baking and I’ll do the lobsters in the broiler just before we eat. You and Becky can throw together a salad.”
“Sounds delish! Isn’t this the dinner you had planned for Saturday night? The one we never got around to eating?” she laughed.
“I think so. My mind is blurry.”
From behind them Becky’s voice said, “You guys didn’t eat Saturday night? Why not?”
Becky entered the kitchen wearing white shorts and a red T-shirt, her hair still damp from the shower.
Bo and Sam looked at each other.
Just like a friggin’ soap opera! thought Sam. Somebody always eavesdropping! Now what do I say?
Becky caught the look exchanged between Sam and Bo, and she didn’t need a high-tech, super-logical brain to figure out what it meant. Bo was blushing, tongue-tied. Sam had said nothing yet. Becky smiled and said, “Cool!”
Chapter 37
Monday, June 4, 2001
Capistrano Beach, CA
They all ate dinner on the deck, watched another glorious sunset. Becky never mentioned the exchange in the kitchen, but both Bo and Sam knew that she knew. It didn’t bother Sam, but Bo felt as if she had failed Becky somehow. But on the other hand, Becky had seemed pleased, not upset. Why? And after all that crap she had fed Becky out in the ocean: “relationships take time.”
Yeah! About 24 hours, then into bed we go!
She considered discussing it with Becky, but what would she say to her? Becky stacked their empty plates and took them into the kitchen. When she was gone, Sam looked at Bo, knowing what she was thinking.
He took her hand and said, “Let it drop, Bo. No explanations are needed. I told you she would find out. She even seemed pleased. Since she’s been scheming to make us a couple, she’ll take credit—in her own mind—for the whole thing.”
“I feel terrible! Like I lied to her, or something!” wailed Bo in a soft whisper.