by Wolf Wootan
***
On Saturday the 9th, John and Helena Crown came home. They planned to stay at the beach house until the end of June, then the two of them were taking Becky to Spain during the first week of July to watch the running of the bulls. It was a present to Becky for all her hard work leading to her doctorates.
Becky was having a hard time not blurting out her secret, but she knew she had to hold it in for a week, or she would spoil her surprise. She kept repeating to herself, “Hi, I’m Rebecca Crown!”
***
On Sunday morning, Sam was parked ten blocks from the park in his van. He had decided that staying in the tech room placed him too far away if he decided there was any action he wanted to take. He set up his equipment so he could control the cameras’ zoom capability from the van.
At 9:55 A.M., a short blonde woman wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and dark glasses sat down on the bench and put her large, black backpack on the bench next to her. Sam zoomed in the cameras—one at a time—and got close-ups of her from all three angles.
It’s possible that she’s just an innocent woman taking a rest, but I can’t take chances, he mused.
He adjusted the cameras to their original settings and waited. When a man wearing jeans, blue T-shirt, and dark aviator glasses sat down on the bench next to her, Sam knew that he had hit pay dirt. The man put an identical backpack next to the one on the bench. The man’s beard looked fake.
Aha! The switch is about to take place!
He zoomed in on the man. He left the frontal camera on close-up so their lips would be captured on tape. Maybe a lip reader could garner some information later. After a couple of minutes, the man picked up the woman’s backpack and left. The woman went in the opposite direction with the other backpack thirty seconds later.
Sam had wanted to put an audio bug under the bench, but he was afraid that the area would be swept sometime before the meeting. He had to be satisfied with video. They were very good close-ups.
When Sam got back to the office, Pearl was there. She had watched the switch of the backpacks on the monitors in the tech room.
“Good video, Sam!” she exclaimed.
“Make up a package of three tapes—one from each camera—and send them to Special Agent Rainbow Trout at Fenster’s office. Nothing traceable to us. Then we’ll see what the FBI does with this!”
“Better than an anonymous phone call,” she said as she slipped on a pair of latex gloves. “I’ll get right on it!”
“Put it in the U.S. Mail so only she can open it.”
“Wouldn’t she get it faster if I sent it to her D.C. office?”
“Just do as I say, Pearl. Please.”
“You got it, boss.”
***
The package arrived at the Santa Ana office of the FBI on Tuesday the 12th. Carl Fenster called Agent Trout and asked her what he should do with it. She jumped at the opportunity—just as Sam had hoped she would—and told Fenster to hold it. She was taking the next plane to Orange County.
A chance to see Sam again! And Becky’s graduation, maybe! she thought. A miracle!
Bo called Sam from the plane and told him she was coming to town on business and would land at 4:15 P.M. his time. He told her that he would meet her at the airport. He was ecstatic! His ruse had worked! At the airport, she flew into his arms and kissed him. She was wearing a light yellow suit with a short skirt.
Ah! Banana! he thought as he ogled her. He couldn’t believe that he’d already forgotten how luscious her long legs were!
“God, Sam! I’ve missed you so much!” she moaned.
“Me, too!” he replied as he kissed her again. “I’ll take your bag. Come with me. A cop buddy of mine is watching my car in that loading zone over there.”
“I have to go to Fenster’s office first. Business. Then, can I stay with you? Please?”
“You’d better! I won’t ask you why you’re here. Save you the trouble of telling me you can’t tell me. I’ll drop you off at Fenster’s, then you can call when you’re ready. I’ll hang out at the office till I hear from you.”
“Not Sparky’s?” she laughed.
“Now there’s an idea!”
***
When Bo opened the package—carefully—she found three video tapes. The package had been dusted for prints and now she had Carl’s technician dust the tapes. Then she and Carl put the tapes in a VCR—one by one—and watched them. Bo was aghast! The woman in the blonde wig was Katie Carlisle, an agent in the L.A. office. She had been eliminated as the mole during an earlier investigation. There she was, though, clearly making a switch with that man!
“Where the hell did these tapes come from, Carl?” she exclaimed.
“Beats me. Came in the U.S. Mail, as you saw. I called you. That’s all I know,” he shrugged.
“These have the quality of a professional sting. I’ve got to call D.C.”
“What’s going on, Trout?” asked Carl.
“Can’t say yet. Need to know, and all that crap. I need a secure phone,” she replied.
Bo interrupted her boss’s dinner and briefed him on the mystery tapes. He told her to send an agent to D.C. with the tapes on the next available plane. He would call the L.A. SAC and have him put Katie Carlisle under 24-hour surveillance, tap her phones, check her finances, the whole enchilada.
“Good work, Rainy! If we don’t get good evidence in a day or two, we’ll bring her in and show her the tapes. See if she cracks and confesses,” he said.
“I doubt if the tapes would be admissible in court,” answered Bo. “No chain of custody. I don’t know who made them.”
“She doesn’t know that! She’ll think they’re our tapes. We now have to find out what info she stole and passed along. I want a member of our team—namely you—there in California so I don’t have to tell a lot of people what we’re up to. You stay there and lay low—await my call. Stay out of L.A. for now. Later, I may want you to take her into custody, then we’ll squeeze her a bit—a lot. In the meantime, do what you can to find out where those tapes came from. And why they were addressed to you! I’ll get busy trying to ID the man on the tapes as soon as I get them.”
***
By the time Bo got the arrangements made to get an agent on the plane to D.C., it was 6 o’clock. She called Sam and he picked her up at 6:15. Sam could sense her excitement, but he wasn’t sure whether it was because of the tapes he had sent her, or because of seeing him. He didn’t care. He had her back, at least for now.
Bo giggled, “I’ve been ordered to stay here until further notice. Isn’t that terrific? Maybe I’ll be here for Becky’s big event!”
“Superb! Do you want to make a dash for my Tustin pad?” he chuckled.
“I thought we were going to the beach house,” she replied.
“We are, but you’ll have to stay in the guest room across from Becky. My parents are home and I never bring women for overnights when they’re home—whatever you might have thought before. I want you right now! We can figure something out at the beach for the long run,” he said, glancing at her as he drove.
“What about the boat? It’s on the way,” she suggested with a smile and a squeeze of his thigh. “I have pleasant memories from there.”
“Good idea! Watch for cops. We’re gonna fly!”
On the freeway, Sam called home and Becky answered the phone.
“Got a surprise for you, Beckster!” he said. “I’ll be cruisin’ in with a friend of yours about 8 o’clock.”
“Who? Not Bo!” she squealed.
“Who else? Of course. Get the room across from yours ready for her, please. And tell Nana and Grandpa that I’m bringing a guest home. Don’t hold dinner. I’ll throw something together for us when we get there.”
“OK, Sam! I’ll take care of everything!”
Sam disconnected. “She can’t wait to see you.”
“I want to see her, too! But first, we have priority business on the boat!”
***
They
cut their frenzied sexual interlude shorter than either of them liked, but they needed to stay on schedule for now. The night was long—they would be innovative later tonight. Sam pulled into the beach house garage at 7:56 P.M., introduced Bo to his parents, then took her bag to the room across from Becky’s. Becky was on Cloud 9!
Helena said to Bo, “This child has done nothing but regale us with stories of how you helped her with her prom—and all about that horrible incident on the Belle. Welcome back to our home, Ms. Trout.”
“Please call me Bo. Sam and Becky do. I’m so honored to be a guest here again in your fabulous home! I have many pleasant memories.”
John and Helena made Bo feel right at home. She had been a little apprehensive at first, but they put her at ease immediately. It might have been Becky’s influence, since she was obviously ecstatic at Bo’s presence. Anything that pleased Becky seemed to please them.
Becky took Bo upstairs and helped her unpack, talking nonstop. She hugged Bo three or four times for no reason. Bo slipped into her bikini, then put on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweat shirt. The air was a little cool, but she intended to spend some time in the heated pool and the spa later.
Downstairs, the five of them congregated on the deck and Sam poured Bo a glass of Chardonnay and mixed himself a Cutty and water. Helena and John were still working on their after-dinner cognacs. John had his pipe going, and Bo lit her foot-long cigarette. It was a comfortable gathering. Bo relaxed. The conversation was light and easy.
They probably know I’m sleeping their son, but they aren’t going there. Thank God! I don’t know how I would handle that! thought Bo. I’ve never met the parents before!
Becky bugged Bo to commit to coming to her Saturday event. Bo said she would unless she was ordered back to D.C. Becky hugged her again with a squeal.
At 9 o’clock, the Crowns excused themselves and went up to their room. Becky did the same ten minutes later, leaving Bo and Sam alone.
“What a nice family! They sure made me feel at ease. I was a bit apprehensive at first,” remarked Bo.
“You have the Becky Seal of Approval. That helps. Sorry about the sleeping arrangements, but my mother would think I was corrupting her granddaughter’s morals if you slept with me in my room. She knows the facts of life, and knows that Becky knows them, but she’s big on appearances,” laughed Sam.
“If you remember, so was I before you and Becky wore me down,” chuckled Bo. She leaned over and kissed him. “I hope I didn’t interrupt any of your plans this week. This opportunity to fly out here was unexpected.”
“Your presence supercedes all else. I’m at your service while you’re here. Double entendre intended,” he laughed as he put his hand on her inner thigh and squeezed. “How about I fix us a light supper. Omelet? Some melon?”
“That would be great! My last meal was on the plane. I’ll come in and help you,” she replied. “How’s your drink? I’m going to pour myself some more wine.”
“I think I’ll switch to wine to go with the omelet. Thanks. You sound like you’ve been here before!”
In the spa later, Bo said, “I have no specific tasks to perform until I hear from my boss, but I’m on call 24/7. I may have to leave on a second’s notice.”
“No problem. I had a light schedule anyway because of Becky’s upcoming stellar event. Pearl will handle anything that comes up, so I’ll hang out with you, if that’s OK,” leered Sam, massaging her breasts.
***
The next three days flew by. Bo’s boss told her that the noose was tightening on the mole. He told Bo to stay out of sight until she was needed. He didn’t want the presence of a JTFE agent to tip off the mole. That suited Bo just fine. She went to Santa Ana with Sam on Thursday when Pearl called him in to fix a problem she couldn’t handle. They had beer, pizza, and a nooner in Sam’s apartment. Life was good. So far.
Chapter 39
Saturday, June 16, 2001
Irvine, CA
Finally, the long awaited day came: Saturday the 16th. Becky’s day! The Crowns, Sam, and Bo were in the audience at UCI by 9:30 A.M. The ceremony began at 10:00 A.M. As the graduates began receiving their doctorates, one by one, Bo took Sam’s hand and squeezed it.
“I’m so nervous!” she whispered.
“Me, too. Ah, she’s next!” he whispered back.
Professor Danforth, her mentor, was handing out the certificates. He picked up two of them when he saw Becky at the head of the line. He made a short speech about how accomplished the next doctoral candidate was, then beckoned Becky forward.
“I therefore bestow the degrees of Doctor of Philosophy in mathematics and physics on Rebecca Crown!”
Becky was beaming! She had already picked her group out in the crowd, so she gave them a little wave and a big smile. Sam was watching his parents. His mother’s mouth fell open when she heard “Crown.” Sam slipped the paper that made Becky a legal Crown from his suit pocket and handed it to his mother.
“She wanted to start paying you back. She knew you would never take money. She asked my permission and I gave it. She wants you to know that she’s truly your granddaughter and that she loves you. Her accomplishments now bear the Crown name. She dedicated them to us,” explained Sam.
His mother was crying. Bo was crying. Sam and his father wiped moisture from the corners of their eyes.
“What a blessed child!” whispered Helena. “Thank God you brought her home to us, Samuel.”
A woman in front of Helena turned around and said, “Do you know that exceptional girl?”
Helena straightened, smiled, and replied, “Of course! She’s my granddaughter!”
***
Back at the beach house, there was a catered lunch waiting, plus several of Helena’s close friends. It was to have been a small celebration of Becky’s unusual accomplishments, but now Helena had an even larger bit of news to share with her guests: Becky was now legally and officially a Crown!
About 2 o’clock, Bo slipped upstairs and put on a bikini and coverup. Sam changed into swim trunks and Aloha shirt and they wandered down to the sand and started walking south toward the San Clemente Pier. When they were out of sight of the house, Bo took his hand.
“That was a magnificent gift that you and Becky gave your parents. They were overwhelmed!” said Bo.
“It was Becky’s idea. She had to let me in on it for legal reasons. She had a hard time keeping it secret till today.”
“She didn’t even tell me. We email each other nearly every day.”
Sam looked at her as they strolled and said, “Oh? She never told me that. That’s good. I told her to keep in touch.”
“Shouldn’t we turn back? You should be part of the celebration.”
“I want this to be for Becky and my parents—at least for a little longer. I don’t want to be a distraction. We’re nearly to the pier. Let’s go to The Fisherman’s oyster bar and get a drink. I have a couple of twenties in my shirt pocket. Of course, they may card you,” he laughed.
“Not likely! Whatever you want is fine with me. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” she smiled, squeezing his hand.
They found a secluded table and ordered tall vodka and tonics with a basket of fried clams to share.
Bo said, “Sam, I want to run something by you—get your feedback.”
“Sure. Shoot,” he said as he munched a crisp clam.
Since she had last been in California, she had digested the detailed background report on Sam and knew a lot more about him—at least his work history. Some of it disturbed her, much of it pleased her.
“I’m not supposed to do this, but I’m going to tell you why I’m here,” she said with a frown.
“Don’t get yourself in trouble,” he smiled, knowing why she was here.
She explained the package addressed to her containing three video tapes, without revealing the content of the tapes.
“So, the profile of the person who recorded these tapes is a professional at surveillance an
d knew I was an FBI agent. This person sent it to the Santa Ana office, not my office in Washington. Maybe this person thought I might personally come out here to open the package,” she opined.
“Awfully convoluted, but go on,” said Sam, sensing she suspected he had sent the tapes and was playing with him.
“The thing that bothers me most is that the capturing of the event on those tapes wasn’t an accidental thing—like, say, a tourist with a camcorder accidentally capturing some cops beating someone on tape. The person had to know that the event was going to take place before professionally arranging three cameras on the actual spot where the event took place. This person was privy to some very sensitive information. I just wish this person, if he or she had more info, would see that I got it. I would take it very seriously.”
Sam smiled. “Who knows, maybe that person will, if he or she had any more info worth giving you. Or there may be good reasons the person can’t share any more info.”
Bo sipped her drink, looked Sam in the eye. “Dammit, Sam! Let’s stop beating around the bush! I may be naive sexually, but not as an investigator! I’d never even been in the Santa Ana FBI office until two weeks ago! I don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to know you sent me those tapes!”
“To use your favorite line, ‘No comment.’ I assume you’ve read the background report you had prepared on me,” replied Sam, still smiling at her, changing the subject.
God, she’s beautiful when she’s upset! he mused.
She looked down a beat, then faced him again.
He went on, “Don’t feel bad about it, Bo.” He covered her hand with his. “I’d have done the same thing in your place.”
“Did you do one on me?” she asked, a hint of a smile forming in the corners of her mouth.
“No. It would have been a waste of time. I know all I need to know about you from just being with you. If you read my dossier carefully, you’ll know that when I was a cop, I had the largest cadre of snitches in the county. I don’t have as many now, but still more than any active cop. I get info from many places, and I protect my sources. Otherwise, they’d all dry up.”