A Dangerous Identity

by Russell Fee

  Julie couldn’t hear the speaker’s words, but she recognized the look in Callahan’s eyes. The news was not good.

  * * *

  Sheriff Markos waited for Callahan outside the morgue of Charlevoix Hospital.

  “Amanda said you were already in Charlevoix when I called for you on the island. Good I caught you before you left. Didn’t have to drag your ass right back here. Like I said on the phone, I need you to see the guy on the autopsy table in there. Pretty sure he’s the one you told us to look out for, but I need some positive visual ID. He washed up on the shore this morning in front of some expensive high-rise condos. We’re still getting angry calls from the owners blaming us for not removing the body before one of the occupants discovered it. I think they’re afraid it will depress the value of their units.” Markos shook his head and laughed. “Like we’re supposed to patrol forty miles of beach twenty-four hours a day. Come on,” he said and put his arm around Callahan’s shoulders and led him into the morgue.

  Despite his name and its spelling, Markos was not Greek but Hispanic. To avoid any confusion regarding his ethnicity, he wore a goatee and a curled mustache. Tall with chiseled features, he was a modern-day image of Don Quixote, except that he didn’t tilt at windmills. He brooked no nonsense and played by the book. He was still chafing over the fact that someone had murdered Jackson on his watch. The deputy who had guarded Jackson was no longer with the department, and Markos subsequently had every one of his deputies enrolled at Quantico in the FBI’s program in protective operations.

  Covered by a sheet, the body lay on a steel table in the center of the room. By its contour, Callahan knew immediately the body was Volkov’s. The sheet formed a crescent: the curve of its hollow falling from a crest that followed the shape of a body on its side; Volkov’s back forming the convex billow of the sheet.

  Markos walked over to the table and pulled back the sheet. “There’s not been an autopsy yet, but I bet he drowned and not before putting up one hell of a fight. Someone definitely wanted him dead. Take a look. Is this your man?” he said.

  The body was Volkov’s, and from the look of it, Callahan wondered if there might be more bodies washing up on shore. Apparently the two Volkov had killed were to rendezvous with someone on the lake. They never made it after Volkov tracked them down on the island. “Did you find anything with him, a computer hard drive specifically?” asked Callahan.

  “No,” said Markos, dragging out the o in a tinge of suspicion. “You want to tell me why you’re asking?”

  Chapter 64

  Amanda watched as the tender from Bland’s yacht approached and then slowed to a drift that pushed it parallel to the dock. Two of the crew stood fore and aft holding lines that they whipped over bollards to secure the craft to its mooring. Bland jumped onto the dock and walked over to Amanda.

  “You here to arrest me, or is this an official welcome?” he quipped.

  “Neither,” said Amanda.

  “That’s a relief on both counts. My vast wealth usually causes me to be treated as a dignitary or a criminal.” Bland smiled, but when Amanda didn’t, he added, “That was supposed to be a joke.”

  Amanda offered a faint smile, and Bland shrugged and started to walk to the Land Rover parked at the dock’s entrance.

  Amanda stepped to his side and kept pace with him. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about a kidnapping on the island,” she said.

  Bland halted and spun toward her. “What? A kidnapping? You can’t be serious,” he sputtered.

  “I am serious,” said Amanda.

  “This is preposterous. I know nothing about any kidnapping.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have any qualms about answering my questions,” said Amanda.

  “This is insane. What if I refuse?” said Bland.

  “That’s your right. But if you do refuse, then you miss the opportunity to be removed from the list of people we want to question.”

  “A list of suspects, you mean?”

  “You’re not a suspect, only a person of interest.”

  “Why, for God’s sake?”

  “I want to see the drone you use for security here,” said Amanda.

  Bland’s angry glare disappeared as his faced shifted to an expression of concern. “My security team doesn’t use a drone anymore. About a month ago I told them to get rid of it. I saw it flying around all the time and realized those clowns were using it as a toy.”

  “I’d like to talk with them,” said Amanda.

  “They’re not here anymore, at least not the same guys. A new team comes every few weeks.”

  “What security firm do you use?” asked Amanda.

  “Roundtree Security,” answered Bland. “Now, tell me who was kidnapped and if they’re okay.”

  * * *

  Amanda decided to walk to the lighthouse where she and Nick had arranged to have lunch together. The town’s main street ended there in a circular turn-around across from the grassy park that surrounded the lighthouse. The whitewashed stone of the lighthouse formed a vivid contrast to the blue expanse of the lake, and when clouds billowed on the horizon, the view was breathtaking. The lighthouse still functioned as a navigational aid after more than a hundred years as sentinel at the mouth of the bay, but now it operated more as a popular tourist attraction. Amanda hoped that she and Nick could find an empty picnic table in the park.

  Things for Nick were coming to a head, and they both were worried. His job with the university’s biological station was finished; there were no other jobs on the island for someone with his qualifications; he was running out of money; and in a few days his lease would be up. Neither of them wanted to be separated, but it looked as if he had to return to the mainland and maybe even to another state to find a job. Amanda was not sleeping well, her dreams bewildering and riven by anxiety caused, she was sure, by their situation.

  Nick had found a table and waved to her as she rounded the path into the park. Two adolescent gulls charged and retreated across an imaginary perimeter around the table, screeching for a tossed potato chip from him. When she got near, he stood and spread his hands over a large plastic bag from the Marina Market. “Ta da, your favorite repast—an Everything Sub.” He reached into the bag, took out the bulging, paper-wrapped, footlong submarine sandwich and laid it before her on the table. “Enjoy,” he said as she sat down.

  Amanda unwrapped the sandwich and picked it up with both hands. She started to take a bite but stopped and said, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m really hungry. Do you mind if I eat a little before we talk?” Then, before Nick could answer, she bit into the sandwich.

  “Actually no. That was my plan in getting you your favorite lunch. I want you quiet while I speak. I have something important to say—to ask you actually—and you need to listen carefully. I’ve been preparing for this for a while, and I want to get it right.” Nick looked at her expectantly.

  Important. The word, the buildup to it, Nick’s look. Could he be about to. . . Amanda’s heart began to race. She stopped chewing but didn’t swallow, afraid she might choke. She sat there with her mouth full of masticated bread and meat, staring at him.

  “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. We’re so good together. It’s like, you know, we sort of fit, understand each other, work well together.” Amanda began to feel faint. “It’s like it’s meant to be—the two of us—so I’ll just say it.” Nick paused and then blurted, “What if I applied for the job of deputy sheriff here on the island? You said the department needs another deputy. We could be with each other, work together, and I wouldn’t have to leave the island.”

  The wad of bread slid to the back of Amanda’s throat and stuck there when her esophagus clamped shut. She couldn’t breathe. She dropped the sandwich, bent over, and clutched at her chest. She started to turn blue.

  “Oh my God,” said Nick and jumped up from the table and ran to her. He grabbed her around the waist from the back, locked his hands together, and thrust up on her ab
domen in the classic Heimlich maneuver. A gooey ball of salami-laced carbohydrate shot from her mouth and arced over the table, sending the gulls scrambling for it. She began gulping for air between bouts of hacking coughs. Nick pounded on her back.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked.

  Chapter 65

  Pete Dempsey finished reading the email from the FBI headquarters in DC and tried to push back against the wave of anger he felt welling up. DC had approved sending the hard drive Callahan had found to Quantico for decryption by the FBI’s Cryptanalysis and Racketeering Records Unit. Headquarters had even approved expediting the process for Dempsey. That was the good news. The bad news—and there always seemed to be bad news coming with the good in this case—was that there was no longer a hard drive to decrypt.

  The two men involved in the island kidnapping had been identified by their fingerprints as ex-military—former Delta Force operators. The two had opted to sign on as contractors with various security companies in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Africa before apparently going into business for themselves. Who they worked for when Volkov killed them was unknown, and that pissed Dempsey off—that and the lost hard drive. That drive contained information very valuable to someone. So far, five people had died either trying to possess that information or of being suspected of knowing the drive’s contents.

  Dempsey felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten and realized that he clenched and unclenched his fists. He picked up his cell phone and punched in Callahan’s number.

  * * *

  Callahan felt his cell phone vibrate once in his pocket before the muffled ringtone started. Nick stopped speaking and waited for Callahan to answer the phone, but Callahan ignored the call and motioned for Nick to keep talking.

  “This would be a new career path for me, a sharp turn from the one I was on, but one I know I want to take. I have a skill set that you could use. Actually, it’s one that you’ve already used a couple of times,” continued Nick.

  Callahan and Nick exchanged knowing smiles. Nick was being modest in the extreme. His technical expertise had been indispensable in helping Callahan and Amanda uncover a domestic terrorism plot that had shaken the island deeply and reverberated across an ocean. Callahan had shamelessly exploited Nick’s knowledge then and was doing the same now in the Susan Gibbons case. Nick’s worth to the department was undeniable and demonstrable. That wasn’t the problem.

  “I want to stay on the island. I feel at home here, and I want to contrib—”

  Callahan interrupted him. “I don’t doubt any of that, but we’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. You know what that is don’t you?”

  “You mean Amanda and me, our relationship.”

  “Yes. I have to consider that and how it will affect both of you working here,” said Callahan. “What if—”

  Now Nick did the interrupting. “—Amanda and I broke up, you mean? Could we still work together?”

  “Well, yes. Or what if—”

  “—our relationship affected our professional judgement?” Nick said, finishing Callahan’s sentence.

  Callahan looked at Nick for a long second. “You’ve obviously thought about this,” he said.

  “Yes,” said Nick.

  “And you and Amanda have talked it over?” said Callahan.

  “Yes,” said Nick again.

  “How does she feel about it?” asked Callahan.

  “You know Amanda, how intelligent and thoughtful she is—and how devoted she is to you. She would always put the welfare of the department and the people of this island above her own. So, she is conflicted and has reservations. The same ones you have and even more. I don’t want to speak for her, but I will tell you that I wouldn’t be here if she didn’t want me to be. I will also tell you that I’m being the selfish one, not her. This was my idea, and she was originally against it.”

  Nick was being very persuasive, but Callahan wanted to be certain that the decision he made was the right one for the office and the island it served. He needed time to deliberate. “I won’t pretend I don’t need another deputy. I do, and any sheriff’s department would be very lucky to have you. But I want to think about it,” said Callahan. He stood up from the desk. “I have to go see Mrs. Hannity—for the third time. Someone has splattered raw eggs on cars that park in front of her house, and I suspect she may know something about that. Can I give you a lift somewhere?” asked Callahan.

  “No thanks. I biked here, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Then I’ll walk you outside,” said Callahan.

  On the steps outside the station, Nick touched Callahan’s shoulder and said, “Wait, I forgot something.” He reached into his pocket, and then extended an open hand to Callahan. In his palm was a flash drive. “I thought I’d given you everything I had that contained any data from that hard drive. I loaded a copy of the flow chart I showed you onto this along with other data from the hard drive that I used to create the chart. Then I forgot about it. I only discovered what I’d done when I went to download other stuff on this drive. Sorry. Do you need it?”

  Callahan beheld Nick’s hand as if it cradled a ten-carat diamond.

  Chapter 66

  Julie and Max had comfortably settled back into their lives after returning from the mainland: Julie as dispatcher and administrative head of the station, Max in his job at the Adult Day Care Center, and both as a family again with Callahan. Familiarity, routine, and a recaptured closeness were drawing all of them toward their former happiness, including the dog.

  Julie took a sip of tea. “That’s so sweet, Matt. It really touches my heart,” she said.

  “What? Nick applying for a job here? That’s sweet?” said Callahan perplexed.

  “Well, I do think that is sweet too, but it isn’t what I meant.”

  “What then?” asked Callahan.

  Julie put the cup of tea down on her desk. She and Callahan were alone together in the station, and he had told her there was something important he wanted to discuss with her. She knew from the way he’d asked her to sit down a moment so that he could run something by her, that what he really wanted was someone who would listen while he thought out loud. There was unlikely to be any discussion. So, she had made tea for them both while he got his thoughts in order, and she prepared herself to be an attentive sounding board.

  Callahan had ended their tȇte-á-tȇte the way he began it. Nick’s working in the department was too problematic. As much as he needed another deputy, especially one like Nick, he just couldn’t have two deputies who were in a relationship in the same department. Their relationship might jeopardize their jobs, and their jobs might jeopardize their relationship. He came up with a half-dozen examples for each scenario to show how and why it wouldn’t work. Finished, Callahan now sat on the other side of Julie’s desk waiting for her to bless him with her wholehearted agreement. He wasn’t getting it.

  “It’s rather endearing how your love has blinded you, Matt.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Your love for me. It’s blinded you. Open your eyes. We’re in a relationship. We work together and live together. We’ve survived and so has the department. When there are problems, we work them out. Even big problems.” Julie paused to let that sink in and gave Callahan a steady look.

  Callahan tried to meet her gaze but averted his eyes after a second. “I know,” he said. “I know.”

  “They’re in love; they will too,” continued Julie. “So, lighten up and hire Nick after he’s completed his courses and passed the deputy’s exam. You need him.”

  * * *

  When Callahan and Julie had finished their tea, he had gone back to his office to complete neglected paperwork. Instead, he sat at his desk mulling over what Julie had said. He had fretted about hiring Amanda too. Her desire and her full-on pursuit to become a deputy almost convinced him, but her youth and lack of law enforcement experience posed insurmountable obstacles. Ultimately, circumstances forced his hand, and he hire
d her. From that moment on, he never regretted it. In short order, she became one of the finest and smartest officers he had ever worked with. Now, he couldn’t imagine doing his job without her. He trusted her in every detail of the duties they performed. He’d even trusted her with his life. Perhaps he should listen to Julie and stop fretting about Nick, he thought.

  Chapter 67

  Callahan had been so circumspect in his phone call that Dempsey wasn’t at all sure what he had told him. However, the urgency of the message was completely comprehensible. Callahan wanted Dempsey to come to the island as quickly as possible; he would explain the situation in detail when he arrived.

  Callahan waited for Dempsey at the ferry dock and greeted him with no more than a curt Good to see you before escorting him to the cruiser. He said nothing as they drove out of town and turned on to the coast road. Dempsey broke the silence.

  “We’re not going to the station?” he said.

  “No,” said Callahan. “We’re stopping up ahead. We’re almost there.”

  Dempsey looked up the road and saw nothing but a green stretch of woods on either side punctuated by mailboxes on posts and signs such a Val’s Halla, Haverford’s Heaven, and Serenity Shores revealing the entrance drives to secluded vacation homes. “Are we going to someone’s house?” he asked.

  Callahan just shook his head and then slowed, turned onto an unmarked dirt road, and stopped. “We get out here.” He put his cell phone on the cruiser’s center console and then opened the door. “Leave yours on the seat,” he said, pointing to his phone.

  Callahan led Dempsey to where the dirt road dwindled into a path. The short path ended at a picnic table in front of a split rail fence that marked an overlook to a lake vista. “Have a seat,” he said.

  Dempsey sat down. “What’s going on, Matt?”

  “This,” he said, sitting down and handing Dempsey Nick’s flash drive. “Nick found this. He’d forgotten he had it. It contains some of the data from the hard drive we found. Not all but a lot. I want you to have the data decrypted and tell me the results. Then return the flash drive to me. However, don’t call me, text me, email me, or communicate with me in any way but in person, here on the island, and in a place of my choosing.”