Breaking Down Barriers

by Jean Martino

  “Happy Birthday, Linda!” sang Scott, standing at the foot of the bed holding a bottle of champagne and a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries.

  “Oh my God!” she cried. “I had completely forgotten. Oh, what’s this?” she asked, finding the object, a gaily wrapped gift box that had been scratching her face.

  “Open it,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed, placing the bowl of strawberries on the side table as he flipped the cork off the champagne bottle, and poured its contents into two glasses.

  She tore off the ribbon and paper and lifted the lid off the box and burst into delighted laughter at seeing the beautiful red blouse with pearl buttons inside. “How did you know what size to get?” she asked, tossing the covers forward and feeling no embarrassment that she was totally naked as she scrambled off the bed to try it on.

  He watched her excitedly pushing her arms through the sleeves, her beautiful breasts bouncing from each movement she made. She might be 50 years old today, he thought, but she sure was in great condition for a 50 year old, and she made him feel young too, her exuberance and simple uncomplicated outlook on life was refreshingly sweet to him.

  “Fits perfectly,” she cried, buttoning the red blouse. “Wow, I look like a Californian now don’t I?” She spun around to show herself off and he laughed at her enthusiasm.

  “You look gorgeous,” he said, handing her a glass of champagne.

  “Champagne breakfast with chocolate covered strawberries? Incredible!”

  They clicked glasses and he started singing Happy Birthday again until she put her hand over his mouth to stop him. “Scott, you know you have a dreadful singing voice,” she laughed.

  “As do you,” he said, laughing also. Then he took a small box out of his shirt pocket and gave her. “A little something else,” he said.

  She opened it and gazed for a long moment at the beautiful pearl ring. “Oh Scott you shouldn’t have,” she almost wept. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “It’s a friendship ring,” he said, taking her right hand and the finger where she had worn Vito’s engagement ring, but removed it when she and Scott had started living together, “your birthstone.”

  Her eyes got all teary.

  He hugged her and laughed. “Hey it’s your birthday. Not something to cry about.”

  He knew she was thinking of Cindy and tried to get her mind off it. “Go get showered and wear that red top. I’m taking you to brunch in town.”

  “But how did you do all this without me knowing?” she asked, her hand sweeping around the van to take in the flowers.

  “I did some shopping in LA for your gifts, borrowed a blouse to make sure I got the right size. Then while I was picking up the RV and truck yesterday morning I called and arranged for the flowers to be sent to the manager’s office at the lake here. That basket over there with the red roses is from Jessica and Bill. I confess I peeked in your address telephone book that you leave on the table and found your sister’s number; knew she would want to send you something, so told her to send it to the manager’s office here too.”

  “And they delivered them all here without even waking me,” she said, amazement causing her to shake her head.

  “You were snoring your head off,” he laughed.

  “I don’t snore!” she cried, tossing a pillow at him before taking off her red blouse, grabbing her overnight case and hurrying to the shower.

  In the shower she let herself cry thinking about the birthday celebration she had planned with Cindy in Australia. But then she pulled herself together, knowing that, wherever she was, Cindy would be thinking of her and sending good wishes and as long as they were safe that was the best present of all.

  Scott drove her into town in the truck thinking how pretty she looked in her white Capris and the red blouse he had given her. “You should wear red more often,” he told her. “It looks good on you.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” she laughed, squeezing his hand.

  As this was Tahoe and gambling was legal, they first had brunch at a casino, then walked around the gambling area, putting money in the slots and laughing when they hit a jackpot, groaning when they lost. They stopped at the lounge and had drinks while watching the show for a while, then walked around again, watching the gamblers, all the time Scott holding her hand and never letting her go. She thought how handsome he looked in his navy blue pants and blue shirt with a navy blue jacket. She was glad that this time he had not worn his hip holster and gun; it always made her have to fight off a shudder. She understood his need to take it with him sometimes, to protect himself from all those people he had put behind bars over the years and who might be released by now. But she had never liked guns and wished he didn’t need one.

  When she had called Jessica to thank her and Bill for the flowers and tell her what Scott had bought her and where they were going for her birthday lunch, Jessica and Bill had sung Happy Birthday to her too. “He sounds wonderful,” Jessica told her.

  “He is,” said Linda, her smile widening. “Thanks again, sis. The roses are just beautiful. Big hugs to you and Bill. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She couldn’t remember having had such a wonderful birthday before. She knew the birthdays shared with Vito and Cindy had been wonderful too, but this one was different; this one was in her middle age and her feelings for Scott had increased considerably over the last few days. She wondered how long she could stay there. She felt she was taking up too much of Scott’s life; keeping him from his work and own family. If no news came soon of Cindy and Michael she might have to return to Australia, and that thought broke her heart. Somehow she would delay it as long as she could, hang onto the thought that a miracle would happen and she would find Cindy and Michael and that what was happening here between her and Scott would somehow find its level and everything would work out between them; without the dreadful pulling away and putting a half a world between them again.

  * *

  Monday morning June 23, 2003:

  Early Monday morning they were woken by the sounds of someone pounding on the van’s door. Scott got out of bed and grabbed his robe, pulling it on as he went to see who it was. Linda got up quickly too, pulling on her own robe.

  When Scott opened the door, Max was standing there. Five feet ten inches, Max’s hair was as white as Scott’s, but his was thinning fast and he joked about doing a comb over if it didn’t stop. At 58 he was getting thicker around the middle, but still maintained a straight pose, sucking in his stomach as much as he felt comfortable doing. He had a square rugged looking face, with blue eyes.

  “Max!” cried Scott surprised to see him. “What are you doing here?”

  Yesterday, before they left Newport Beach, he had called Max about Roger McLean’s murder and Max had heard nothing more about it, but he told him he was taking Linda to the lake for a couple days to get her away from the pressures in LA.

  Holding the door open for him, Scott frowned as Max walked in. Max wouldn’t have come all this way for nothing. Something must have happened.

  “Linda,” he said, as Linda hugged her robe around her feeling embarrassed at someone finding her in bed still, “this here’s my buddy, Max, from the Sacramento police department.”

  “Hello Max,” she said giving him an embarrassed smile and holding out her hand.

  He grabbed it and squeezed it, perhaps a bit too hard without realizing it. “Nice to meet you, Linda,” he said. “How’re you enjoying our lake?”

  “Oh it’s lovely,” she said. “I just love it up here.”

  Scott had poured three mugs of coffee and invited Max to sit down. “I know you must have something important to tell me,” he said, “so shoot. It’s OK,” he added, seeing Max casting a quick glance at Linda. “You can speak freely.”

  “I tried to call you to tell you,” he started, “but your cell phone must be turned off or the batteries flat.”

  “Shit!” cried Scott, reaching for it. “Batteries are flat alright. Well, I’ll get t
hem replaced later, so tell me what’s up.”

  “Came over the wire this morning,” said Max, “the FBI have partially closed down McLean’s Investments and sent in a team of accountants to audit all the accounts. They have confiscated all the computers and are now checking the hard drives. The accounts that are legit are being serviced by the brokers at McLean’s, who have been interviewed and cleared of any involvement in the suspected money laundering. They are looking in particular for ones tied into the money laundering scheme. They also have confiscated computers from all the management and staff’s homes including Roger McLean’s home.”

  “They didn’t waste any time,” said Scott frowning.

  “They never do,” agreed Max. “But here comes the worst part. They’ve linked the house you and Linda were staying at with Roger McLean and have issued a warrant to apprehend Michael and Cindy Brampton for questioning.”

  Linda cried out aloud. “Oh my God!”

  Scott said nothing for a minute, listening to Max giving more details, knowing what was coming but not being able to stop it.

  “They have sent someone to Michael’s parent’s home in Arizona to question them and are looking for Linda right now, as we speak.”

  Linda cast scared eyes at Scott. “How would they know about me?” she asked.

  “They were able to trace you through their data base on Cindy.”

  “They have a data base on Cindy?” she asked.

  “The FBI has a data base on almost everyone in the country,” said Scott. “Every time someone applies for a passport or driver’s license it goes into a data bank and the FBI tracks these things, especially since the nine eleven terrorist strike in New York.”

  Max nodded. “And they know you flew to California from Australia a week ago. The Newport Beach police would have given them information on you and Scott staying at that house and, if you told them, that beach unit. They know your cell phone numbers from giving them to police and even if they didn’t they could easily have found them. They want to pick you up for questioning also,” he said.

  “But I don’t know anything,” she protested. “I wish I did. If I did I would encourage Cindy and Michael to turn themselves in and fight this. I know Michael wasn’t involved in that money laundering scheme knowingly.”

  They all went quiet for a few minutes trying to let it all sink in.

  “I have to get back now,” said Max. “Told the chief I was going to do some investigating for a case I am on right now. Can’t stay here any longer.”

  “Don’t tell anyone where we are yet,” said Scott, as he walked Max to his car. “I need a little time to check things out first.”

  “You know I am not telling you what to do buddy,” said Max, opening his car door, “but there’s more than the FBI involved in this. Those crims doing the money laundering would like to get their hands on Michael also and anyone connected to him, and if they do he could end up like Roger McLean. He knows too much for their comfort.”

  “I know,” said Scott. “That’s why I don’t want to let Linda return to LA right away. I’ll be in touch buddy,” he said. “I’ll call you from my land line phone at home, that scrambler I put on it should keep anyone from listening in. Thanks for coming all the way out here to warn us.”

  “Just remember who you’re dealing with down there and stay safe,” said Max, then got into the car and drove off back to Sacramento.

  CHAPTER 16

  Back in the RV he found Linda still sitting at the corner table her face as white as a sheet, her eyes showing her fear. “Scott, I forgot to tell you. Friday when you were at Dan’s getting the laptop I went to the Seven Eleven store to get some bread and saw the man who I think put that disc on your car.”

  Coming instantly alert, Scott stared at her. “Who, and how do you know that was him?”

  “His name is Benny Freedom and he grew up in the house next to where I lived in Costa Mesa, the one I’m renting out now. He and Cindy were very close as kids growing up together. Then they went off to college and different lives, but after he got married and Cindy and Michael got married they became close friends again.”

  “What does he look like?” asked Scott.

  “About six four, very thin, with brown hair and brown eyes.”

  “I never saw his face that day,” said Scott, frowning, “but he was about that same height and slim. But why do you think it was him?”

  “When I was at the Seven Eleven store yesterday I saw him walk out. He was wearing a gray suit. I ran after him but he’d already driven off. He majored in business in college and then when he graduated he got his stock broker’s license and went to work for Merrill Lynch. Cindy told me in an email that Michael had talked him into leaving Merrill Lynch and getting a job at McLean’s. She said Benny and Michael were great friends.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “Right next to my own house,” she said. “Cindy said his parents had bought a house down the coast and Benny bought the house from them and lives there now with his wife, Rosie, and their three little kids.”

  Scott thought about what Max had told him. The FBI would have questioned all the staff at McLean’s by now. If Benny knew anything he would have told them where to find Cindy and Michael. If not then he didn’t know either, or perhaps he wasn’t telling.

  “I should call him,” said Linda reaching for her cell phone.

  He stopped her. “From now on we can’t use the cell phones. Turn it off. The FBI will have a tracer on them both now and easily find you through them.”

  “But we have to go back and talk to the FBI,” she said.

  “Not yet, honey. We have to be sure before we do that, that those criminals aren’t looking for you to try and find out where Michael is also.”

  “Oh God!” she cried. “I can’t even call Jessica to tell her I’m ok either?”

  “Not from your cell phone. There’s a phone booth on the other side of the lake. We can drive there on the way home and you can call Jessica collect and tell her not to worry, that you will be ok. I will make sure of that.”

  Hurriedly they packed up and reattached the van onto the truck then drove off. After Linda had made her phone call, she returned to the truck.

  “Everything ok?” he asked.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not sure. Jessica said still no news from over there, but a man stopped at her home yesterday. Said he was an old friend looking for me. She said he had an American accent and she at first thought he was an old friend of mine from California. She asked his name and he said Joe and she told him I had flown to California a week ago but didn’t say why.”

  “How did he know Jessica was your sister and where she lived?”

  “She said he had first stopped at my house and when I didn’t answer the door he had gone next door to my neighbors who had told him Jessica lived down the street.”

  “So who was he? And what did he look like?”

  “I don’t know who he could be. According to Jessica he was medium height and build, looked to be in his thirties, brown hair and eyes. Nice looking man, she said. Dressed in black pants and wearing a black track suit jacket with a gold motif on the pocket but she can’t remember what it was.” Linda frowned. “Jessica said when she told him I was in California he didn’t seem to be surprised. She asked him if she could give me a message next time she talked to me and he just shrugged and said to just tell me Joe from San Francisco stopped by to say hi. Then Jessica watched him drive off and even wrote down his car’s registration number.” At this point she laughed nervously. “Poor Jessica, she doesn’t know what to think or do anymore.”

  “Do you know anyone in San Francisco?”

  “No,” she said. “I’ve only been there once, just after Vito and I were married, for a few days. I haven’t the faintest idea who he is and how he got my address in Adelaide”

  Scott called Dan. “Been trying to call you all morning, Dad,” said Dan.

  “My batteries are dead
,” he said.

  “Have you heard about McLean’s being closed down? It was in the LA Times.”

  “Max came up to tell me. We’re returning to Sacramento right now. Don’t want to bring Linda back to LA for now. Once some inquisitive reporter finds where she’s staying they will hound her to death, not to mention the FBI wants to take her in for questioning.”

  “Shit, what are you gonna do? You can’t hide out forever.”

  “Got a couple things to take care of up here first. Anyone comes asking you questions you don’t know where we are and haven’t talked to me.”

  “Right,” said Dan. “I learned a few things having a father who was a cop.”