Chasing Ghosts

by Lee Driver

  “Have anything on special?”

  “Buck-fifty pints.”

  “That’s fine. Coors Light.”

  “My name’s Brad.” Brad dropped a menu on the table and left.

  The dining room section of the restaurant was filling fast. And although every seat at the bar was filled, there were still a number of open booths. Dagger slid his sunglasses in the pocket of his jeans jacket, then gave the menu a quick scan. By the time Brad returned with the beer, Dagger was ready to order.

  “Need to find something?” Brad asked with a nod toward the map. The last thing Dagger needed was for someone to know his destination.

  “Just getting my bearings.”

  “I moved to Nebraska last year, you know.”

  No I didn’t and I don’t give a flying fuck. “Really? What brought you to Nebraska?”

  “My girlfriend got a job here so I tagged along.” Brad glanced over the map again as though looking for arrows or circles.

  “How about placing my order?” Dagger tried to be polite about it. A rude customer was one that was easily remembered. He watched Brad disappear into the kitchen. Dagger decided to wait to study the map when he was back in his room. To prevent Brad from making small talk, Dagger pulled out his cell phone and called Skizzy.

  “Where the hell are ya?” Skizzy screamed into the phone.

  “I’m just one millimeter away from your mouth so you don’t have to yell. How was your houseguest?”

  “Mad as hell and threatened to squeeze my neck til my eyes popped out.”

  “Did she ask you where I went?”

  “What good would that do? You never told me where you was headed.” After several beats of silence, Skizzy asked, “Where are you, really?”

  “On a mission. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Girlie said you needed her help. That you always get yourself into trouble.”

  Dagger smiled at that comment. He hated leaving Sara in the dark but he had a feeling this was going to be dangerous. “Well, I could be on a wild goose chase so no sense both of us being away from Einstein.”

  Brad walked over with a tray hefted over one shoulder. He set the tray on the table and distributed the steak platter, baked potato, sour cream, mixed vegetables, and a loaf of bread.

  “Anything else?” Brad asked.

  Dagger held up the half empty beer glass and Brad took off.

  “Does this have anything to do with BettaTec?” Skizzy asked, a bit of hesitancy in his voice.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because of your urgency in leaving, that scarlet red color of rage that was on your face, and your insistence in distancing girlie from you, even to the point of using one of my throw away cell phones rather than taking your own.”

  “I certainly won’t know if BettaTec is involved until I get there, will I?” Dagger spooned sour cream into the baked potato as another waiter, not Brad, set a fresh beer in front of him. He nodded his thanks and then asked, “What do you and Simon have planned for the cardinal?”

  “We rented ourselves some fancy tuxedos and we’re gonna be waiters at that farewell reception. That will give us a chance to check the cardinal’s neck.”

  “Find any more video footage of the guy at the airport?”

  “Yeah. Traced him to the international terminal where the private jets take off. He hopped a sleek streamliner but I haven’t a clue where it was headed. Them private jobs don’t file a flight plan.”

  “How about a tail number?”

  “Couldn’t tell.”

  “I’ll call again the next chance I have. Meantime, give Padre a heads-up on the cardinal.”

  “Wait. What do we do if the cardinal has one of them scars on the back of his neck?”

  “I think you and Simon can come up with something.” He hung up before Skizzy could sputter on about his allergy to cops.

  Two women entered the bar, one with designer sunglasses and long, brown hair. For a second, Dagger almost thought it was Sara. He could just imagine how pissed she was right now. They had made a promise after Sara had returned from her three-month getaway following the Friday the Thirteenth case. Neither one would ever leave. But that was before BettaTec’s hit man showed up on their doorstep.

  “Aw, jeez.” Skizzy punched the END button on the cell phone. “He’s gonna kill me.”

  Simon hefted his body onto a kitchen chair in the back room of Skizzy’s pawn shop. “He don’t have to know you told Sara where he went.”

  “That’s the point. I didn’t. She figured it all out herself but I let her out before the three hours.” Skizzy stared at the phone as though expecting Dagger to call back. “Something strange about girlie. She’s awful knowledgeable about a lot of things no nineteen-year-old should know.”

  “Such as?”

  “Longitude and latitude. I’da never looked at that.”

  “Youngsters today pay more attention to detail.”

  Skizzy shook his head, freeing more strands of hair from his ponytail. “You shoulda seen her on that Mitch case, out at the cemetery. She was like some gymnast twirling in the air, putting herself between Dagger and Mitch, tossing two knives at Mitch with such force they sunk up to the hilt in a tree. Ain’t normal.”

  “Adrenaline. Makes people do unbelievable things. We saw that in Nam.” Simon took a sip of coffee and winced. “Damn, that’s awful.” He shoved the cup aside. “Besides, I would think Dagger would be happy to have Sara’s help. He can’t do it himself, although the stubborn ass thinks he can.”

  “Oh, he ain’t gonna be pissed if girlie shows up. He’s gonna be pissed when he finds out the Chevy Cobalt he borrowed has a tracker on it.”

  Simon swiped a hand across the stubble on his face. “How much time should we give them?”

  “Twenty-four hours. Then we go after them.”

  The gray hawk swooped down and landed on a light pole near an off ramp on Interstate 80. An intermittent stream of headlights forked out in each direction. A blanket of trees was to the north. A forest would be a perfect place to rest for the night. An unoccupied cabin or ranger station would be perfect. It required too much of Sara’s energy to stay in one form for too long. Even a farmhouse with a barn would be nice, some place where humans wouldn’t stumble onto her in all her naked glory. With this age of electronics, she had to be more careful to avoid anyone with a cell phone snapping a photo of the hawk shifting.

  Sara avoided communicating with Dagger for fear she might slip and let him know her intentions. For now her silence should tell him she was pissed … royally.

  CHAPTER 24

  Dagger took his time the next morning, had a leisure breakfast since it might be the last full meal he had in a while, and then did some shopping to stock up on water and supplies before hitting the road. The sun’s heat blistered through his dark clothes. After pulling off to the side of the road, he grabbed a bottle of cold water from the cooler, then sat on the hood of the car, the brim of the baseball cap shielding the sun’s glare.

  Tumbleweeds whirled and danced across the flat plain churning up dust and grit. It was a stretch of desolate land. Dagger hadn’t seen a building in miles much less a road sign. He pulled off the sunglasses, poured cold water onto a handkerchief, and wiped the grit from his face and neck.

  Nothing looked familiar to him. If his hunch were correct then something should have looked familiar—a street sign, the name of a town, a hotel, something other than the coordinates. This could be a wild goose chase. But what better place to operate from than an isolated piece of land in the middle of a sparsely occupied chunk of state. Dagger checked his cell phone. No service in this area which didn’t surprise him. He climbed back into the Cobalt and checked the onboard map. Leave it up to Skizzy to arm his vehicles with the latest technology. According to the coordinates, Dagger was ten miles south of the target area. The gym bag on the passenger seat was loaded with enough of Skizzy’s toys to arm Dagger for a week. He just wasn’t sure what he was goin
g to find when he got there. More Demkos waiting on a corner? Both BetteTec satellites aimed over the coordinates? Was he walking into a trap? Did Dagger even bring enough ammo much less food? Fruit, power bars, and water would only last so long.

  Dagger slipped his glasses back on and put the Cobalt in gear. He had balked at the sedan Skizzy had loaned him until he got behind the wheel. Skizzy had done quite a bit of work on this particular vehicle. It had been painted silver which helped camouflage the car against the gray sky. But the startling modification was the $3,000 turbo kit.

  Dagger slammed the car into gear and the car shot back onto the highway.

  “Well, well.” Padre crossed the foyer to where Sheila stood. “Shouldn’t you be chasing down a story somewhere?”

  “I am. Cardinal Esrey is giving his speech today and I’m here to attend the reception afterwards. My photographer will take a few pictures for the front page and you, my dear friend, will give me an exclusive on those three deaths you have been so tightlipped about. They are all connected, right? The salesman in the trunk of the car at the airport, the security guard in the cardinal’s suite, and the jumper in the hotel parking lot.”

  Padre shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled. “Ahhh, my dear Miss Monroe. You may be able to wrap some people around your manicured finger but not me. You will have to go to the police chief for any information since I’m not at liberty to disclose anything. Matter of fact, I think the mayor’s office may be handling the press release on that.”

  “Oh please. The mayor is one of the people I have around my manicured finger and he tossed it back to you. You must have identified the jumper by now.”

  “All I can tell you is that there wasn’t much left to identify. The heat was too intense to leave even teeth for DNA. Until we can compare missing person reports to videotape from the hotel lobby, we have zip.”

  Thomas crossed the foyer to the study on the right carrying a tray with a carafe. “Now there,” Padre said with a nod to the cardinal’s assistant, “is one guy I’m sure you can work your charm on.”

  Sheila rolled her eyes. “You have got to be kidding. The man is an android. He finds it a complete dereliction of duty just to tell me what toothpaste the cardinal uses.”

  Robert Tyler descended the curved staircase with Lily, giving her last minute instructions. Padre noticed Sheila’s eyes dissecting Tyler’s movements. He leaned close to Sheila and said, “You know you could do a lot better than that cop you are dating. Tyler’s got respect, money.”

  Sheila tsked. “I have enough money. Besides, he’s like a second father to me.”

  “Women like you prefer the bad boys but some day you will have to grow up.”

  “Save your pious speeches for someone who asks for them, Padre.”

  But Padre could see the wheels spinning behind Sheila’s green eyes.

  Tyler stretched out a hand to Padre. “Sergeant Martinez, what brings you around today?” He gave Sheila a peck on the cheek. “Looking beautiful as always, Sheila.”

  Padre could swear he saw Sheila blush.

  Tyler motioned for them to follow him to the veranda. “Can I get you anything? Coffee? Iced tea?”

  “Nothing, thank you.”

  “Iced tea would be nice, Robert,” Sheila said. She stood at the railing and looked down on the gardens. Padre could see her imagining what it would be like to be head of this household, not that her family’s estate was a slum. But Padre doubted she could give up her bad boys and Tyler wouldn’t settle for a wife with a roving eye.

  “I can get a couple uniformed officers to check I.D.s outside and a couple more to stand guard if you’d like,” Padre offered.

  “Two officers outside is all we’ll need. Dagger is sending two men to work undercover inside.”

  “Dagger won’t be here?” Sheila’s voice didn’t mask her disappointment. “Did he say why?”

  “Something about paying respects to the family of a friend who died in that plane which fell into Pyramid Lake in Nevada.”

  “Friend? What friend?” Sheila demanded.

  Lily brought a tray with three glasses of iced tea. Padre checked his watch and decided he had time for iced tea. He wondered what two friends Dagger planned to send over in his absence. More importantly, he wondered what coincidence it was that Doc Akins’ plane fell from the sky. Homeland Security was all over the case but Padre didn’t believe in coincidences.

  “I’m not sure,” Robert replied. “I don’t make it a habit of prying into other peoples’ lives. I leave that up to you reporters.” Robert motioned for them to have a seat. “I really don’t anticipate problems today, Sergeant, and Cardinal Esrey feels I’m imposing on the police department for no good reason, but, to be safe, I think it best to have some show of caution.”

  “I agree.”

  “Dagger’s two associates will pose as waiters,” Robert added.

  “Associates?” Sheila asked. “What associates?”

  Padre looked quizzically at Sheila. “For having once been engaged to the guy, you certainly sound surprised that he has friends and associates.”

  Sheila’s face flushed. “Dagger always was very private. I know he refers to Sara as an associate,” she added with a bit of cynicism. “Does she plan to be here, too?”

  “Only two men from what I understand.” Padre was curious, too, if Dagger really was paying his respects. If not, exactly what was he doing?

  Robert refilled Sheila’s glass with iced tea. “I understand you had a hand in that engagement party fiasco. Nick is a bit more distressed than he is letting on.”

  Sheila’s face flushed again as she pressed her hands across her linen skirt. “Sometimes people just need a little push. I miscalculated Sara’s feelings for Nick, that’s all.”

  “In the future,” Robert said, his gaze locking onto hers, “I would appreciate it if you would leave your pushing to the Monroe family.”

  “I meant no harm, Robert. I hope you believe me.”

  Padre thought if Sheila’s face got any redder, she’d need an ice pack.

  “Of course. I’ve done my share of meddling in my sons’ lives so I know how much harm can be done. I have to admit I’m guilty of miscalculating their relationship, too. I was also guilty of trying to manipulate him. I dangled one of our island resorts in front of Nick, hinting that it would look far more professional if he exhibited a serious commitment to business and his life. Believe me, I see the errors of my ways.”

  “Why? What happened?” Sheila placed a hand on Robert’s arm. Padre was getting pretty good at reading Sheila. She was like a chameleon being jealous and manipulative one minute and a concerned friend with motherly overtones the next.

  “He flew to Hawaii to do some surfing. At least Eric is there so he can give him some brotherly advice. Matter of fact, tomorrow morning after the cardinal leaves for Rome, I’m going to head there myself. We are going to have a Tyler family R and R. Try to get back on track. It will be good to spend some time with my grandson.”

  “I would think if you were going to be upset with someone, Robert, it would be Sara, not me.” When Sheila bristled, it wasn’t a pretty image. She didn’t wear jealousy well.

  “Sara was the victim in this, as was Nick. I was trying to control him for my own benefit and you were trying to control the entire situation for your own benefit. Neither one of us was innocent in this.”

  Padre felt like an intruder in a family spat and desperately wanted to change the subject. “I’m glad I’m here should you two take the gloves off, but if I might interject a question here regarding the cardinal, Mr. Tyler.”

  “Sure, I’m sorry.”

  “After the break-in, did the cardinal notice if his briefcase had been tampered with, maybe documents stolen or perhaps noticed that someone logged onto his computer while he was at the dinner?”

  “For one thing, the laptop was here. It wasn’t at the hotel. More importantly, I don’t think he would be the person to ask any questions regarding th
e computer.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He writes everything in long hand. Hasn’t stepped into the electronic age, in his words. Thomas types all of the cardinal’s notes into the laptop.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Dagger glanced at the satellite image on the monitor as he sped past several buildings. Up ahead was a fenced in area as far as the eye could see. He slammed his foot on the brake and spun the car 180 degrees. He checked the monitor again, the car idling. A rusted sign on the fence said Gemini Missile Silo. And just below the name was the symbol for BettaTec.

  Out of force of habit, his eyes scanned the fencing for cameras, but what did it matter? BettaTec had the biggest eye in the sky. Thankfully, according to Skizzy’s findings, the two satellites weren’t pointed over this area, which made Dagger wonder, why not?

  He studied the ghost town stretched out in front of him. An asphalt street without curbs made it look as though some Hollywood studio had thrown up a backdrop overnight for a movie scene. The buildings were wooden, some windows broken out, some doors yawning open in the hot wind, banging incessantly against the doorjambs. Weeds and litter tumbled across the asphalt. Dagger watched for any signs of movement, listened for voices, music. He punched a button on the grid and checked for cameras, then rolled the Cobalt slowly down the street letting Skizzy’s toy scramble any cameras he hadn’t detected that might still be in operation.

  He parked the car in front of a building with a striped pole. Cautiously he climbed out of the car and slammed the door. His eyes scanned rooftops, the narrow alleyways between buildings. He opened the door to the barber shop and stepped inside. Three chairs faced the doorway waiting for their next customers. Carcasses of bugs and birds scattered a dirt-covered wooden floor. Towels lay across the tops of chairs, one towel tossed on a counter.

  Dagger stepped back outside and entered the next building. Shelves were stocked with canned goods and torn boxes which looked as though animals might have had a feast. What was missing was a cash register, or perhaps that was the only thing anyone thought of taking. A rack by the door had a stack of newspapers. Dagger pulled one from the middle of the stack to avoid all the dirt and grit. It was dated five years ago.