The truck was impounded and towed to the forensics lab. Mark’s fingerprints were found in and around the truck, but the steering wheel was clean, even of his prints, and wiring under the dash was found to have been tampered with. The dried blood and other evidence was found to be directly related to the death of Colonel Samuel Faulkner.
The detectives in charge of the investigation had privately hoped that the truck’s registered owner was also the perpetrator of the hit and run, to wrap this up quickly, but his alibies were found to be both valid and convincing. This case would eventually become a cold, unsolved one.
108. RETURN TO THE COAST
Dan's cool teetered. What had been only an imagined, worst case scenario, appeared to have taken place! Faulkner had betrayed him, no doubt. He'd been holding onto a thin line of hope that somehow, there'd be a way to clear up this mess. Some extenuating circumstances would come to light, take the edge off of what had felt like a razor at his neck. He also knew that with wishes in one hand, shit in the other, one filled much faster, the other might never.
He sat in an F seat, staring out the window at grey light, as they flew toward the west coast. His body moved west anyway, but his mind raced multi-directional. If Tony hadn't been there to help keep him grounded, Dan might not have been able to see past the chaos that threatened to overwhelm his logic processes.
Tony leaned over, close to Dan’s ear and whispered.
“That was no accidental hit and run. Think about it. You witness something nobody's supposed to see. They come after you, to take you out! Who's issuing those fucked up orders? Now, when you were close to learning more, the possible source of those orders was murdered in what's been made to look like an accident, except that the driver fled the scene. That was no fuckin' accident.”
Tony leaned back into his seat and as Dan turned to face him, they locked eyes, acknowledging without words that what he'd said was absolute.
They retreated into private thoughts, and fifteen minutes later, both had dropped down into necessary, but light sleep. Their good fortune was that over the years, they'd developed the ability to sleep in adverse conditions. The cramped seating and legroom of a jetliner qualified.
EPILOGUE
109. HARDY’S SURF AND DIVE SHOP
No stranger to creating space and a new cover when things got hot, Dan had been in some very wam spaces. During years of active duty assignments with SEAL teams, his pinpoint-focused attention and diligence polished his skills and honed his edges in the use of many tools.
Those skills never went unnoticed or under-utilized. When his active duty eased up, and transition into a semi-retired status began, there were a number of individuals and groups who needed the services that he could provide. Security consultations and professional body guard services were common, and occasionally, there were calls for something flowery-sounding like family relocation and resource procurement skills and services. If one could see his portfolio, it would list work with active and retired diplomats and their families, corporate executives and theirs, and some very high-end security contracts. When he wanted to work, work was good.
After his official on record retirement, he was offered exclusive membership into what his sponsor laughingly called 'S.T.R.O.P'., or Special Team Retirement Option Plan. He never learned whether this was a for real name or his leg being pulled, but the acronym did fit well. This membership allowed him to remain on a very small roster of individuals, whose skill sets and bags of tricks were remarkable, and those who stayed on kept their razors extremely sharp.
He'd learned tricks mirroring witness protection programs, where one could melt into a community as a totally different person, including complete changes in appearance and persona. He was adept at causing financial manipulations, usually from sources with soft underbellies, providing grease to fund his endeavors. Those sources usually didn’t want any extra attention and considered these encounters as costs of doing business, and most often turned a blind eye.
One of his favorite cover spaces was an unassuming little hole-in-the-wall surf and dive shop. He found a tiny store space, tucked between two well-established businesses in a tropical, coastal town. He bought the space outright and paid a handsome bonus to the property owner for allowing him to re-route power so that it was subtly married into the main building’s power supply. He would never see a utility bill.
A friend and colleague known as 'Flip', who'd retired ahead of Dan, was an easy pick for a partner, and he was afforded free rein to run the shop as he saw fit. Dan only used the shop as a quiet base for vacation escapes and for chill time when things got a little too warm elsewhere. There were a few times when his partner convinced Dan to help out with a dive charter, but more often, they would both grab boards and hang out in the surf and nearby beach bungalow bar, exchanging flirtatious cavorting with the visiting honeys.
110. SANTA BARBARA DISTRICT ATTORNEY’S OFFICE
Compounding evidence that developed over several days justified the District Attorney’s motions to the court that the ‘John Doe’ (a.k.a. Lyle Bandahl) being held as their person of interest in the homicide of Senator John Turner should not be released on bail.
When officially charged with homicide in the first degree, during the course of the investigation, along with a few other juicy federal charges including tampering with evidence and attempted arson, he made a call as allowed him by law, to a number that typically connected him with his old friend Frieda.
His hope was that he might get some legal counsel assistance from friendly sources who knew something of his background and service, but what he found was that his call never connected to a real voice. Instead, the digital reply started out well, with promise to connect the caller to a staff member, but it never went beyond the menu options that continuously looped back to the same ignore mode or worse, a disconnect.
Lyle began thinking about whether he might want to strike a deal with the prosecutor. The young barrister seemed quite eager to score a victory on this case and had informed him that while the evidence had started strangely and circumstantial, it had developed into what, in her estimation, would be a slam dunk and promise of full-time residence in a correctional facility for their Mr. Lyle Bandahl.
She informed him that additional charges were pending. When/if they determined his real and true identity, after initial scouring for information on him came up empty, she would have more confidence in the trial’s conclusion.
The prosecution's evidence was heavy, never-the-less. The most critical piece was the video, and if allowed to be seen by a jury, would provide the coup d’grace as extremely persuasive. They had additional pieces, such as critical blood DNA evidence proving their suspect’s presence on the boat, evidence of the Senator’s DNA through comparative analysis, as well as the other dead body, identity as yet to be determined.
Plenty of fingerprints were found, though there were none of Bandahl’s found on the cutting, edged weapons. Fragmented prints from the pistol found on the deck pointed to Bandahl, but an adequate attorney's surgical skill could excise that evidence.
One very big missing piece was the missing body of the Senator. The district attorney's office knew there had been a dead body, and the video was compelling proof of that. If the jury saw the video, they would know enough, and both dead bodies would be tied to, laid upon the shoulders of their jailhouse guest. If they weren't able to locate Turner’s body, the amount of blood evidence on the boat identified as his blood would be enough to convince the jury that he'd died there.
The fulcrum for whether this case ended in a conviction or exoneration for Mr. Bandahl was going to depend on whether the defendant had a good legal defense.
Fingerprint data being sketchy, there remained clear evidence of at least complicity in a capital crime.
A defense able to drill holes in a case based on the preponderance of circumstantial evidence might do well, whereas a defense that was forced to acquiesce to the circumstantial evidence would have a to
ugh go at receiving exoneration.
As in most things, time would tell the end to this tale. Meanwhile, Mr. Bandahl could only fret about the prospect of a long prison sentence.
THE END…
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