The Caspian Wine Mystery/Suspense/Thriller Series

by Maggie Thom

  The mere thought that he could view her as such was the catalyst she needed to get moving. She stood to pull out her clothing. He’d bought her two pair of jeans, two t-shirts, two blouses, a pair of dress pants and even lingerie. He’d been insistent about the dressier clothing which she couldn’t understand. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, she quickly pulled them on. Once dressed, she walked down the hallway to the guest bedroom.

  Graham was still clacking away at the keyboard. He looked up when she entered. She couldn’t help but smile because she wasn’t sure which of them was more embarrassed.

  “I’m sorry...”

  “I didn’t mean...”

  “You first.”

  “No, you.”

  Bailey returned Graham’s smile and realized they could let it go. Carefully weaving her way through the stack of papers and boxes, she climbed onto the bed behind him.

  “What are you doing?” Bailey asked as she looked over his shoulder.

  “Uuhh.” He quickly shrunk whatever he’d had on the screen.

  She leaned her back against the wall and stretched her legs out. “Am I bugging you?”

  Graham spun around in his chair. He looked at her as though stumped. “You’re not. But you are. How does that grab you, my dear?” he said in a very bad, stodgy English accent.

  She replied in kind, “Jolly good, my man. Jolly good.”

  He laughed with her. “You can joke. I like that.” He spun back to the computer and started tapping away again. Bailey frowned but didn’t interrupt him nor ask any more questions. She didn’t want him to think she was snooping so she tried to keep her eyes averted from the screen, but less than five minutes later she could barely sit still—she crossed her legs, uncrossed them, leaned forward, sat back... She didn’t want to be rude and snoop through his house but she’d had enough. Graham was working and Guy hadn’t returned from his call. She was about to get off the bed when Graham chose that moment to spin around. She jumped backward, whacking her head against the wall. She gently rubbed the tender spot.

  Graham looked at her with a silly grin. “Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. But I think I’ve found something. Something brilliant.”

  “Oh? What is it?”

  His eyes flew to the door. “Uh, where’s Guy?”

  “On the phone. Why?”

  “Just, he’s taking a while.”

  Her eyes opened wide. “Damn. I left him a tub full of water that has to be cold now. Sorry. I’ll go drain it.” Racing to the bathroom, she pulled the plug and headed back. Since the bathroom was only two doors away from the computer room, she could hear their voices clearly. Tiptoeing a little closer, she stood outside the door.

  “You won’t believe what I found.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Bailey moved closer to the open door.

  “Did you tell her?”

  “No.” Something was mumbled she couldn’t make out, then, “...let me worry about that.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “Donna Saunders aka Donna Zajic, married to Doug Zajic, a Member of Parliament. Donna disappeared in July, 1983. There was suspected abuse; several calls to police but no charges. She disappeared on the early morning of July 6, 1983. He was even suspected of murdering her, but since no body, no blood, no sign of foul play was ever found, they had to drop it. Her car was finally recovered in southeast Calgary; apparently, she gave the keys to the parking valet. No evidence she ever bought a ticket, though. I think that’s where Mr. Lund comes in. I’m guessing he’s responsible for getting her a new name. I’m just not clear why. Nor do I understand this next part.”

  There was silence except for the clacking of computer keys. “It seems our Mr. Lund was playing a bit of a nasty game. He was getting twenty thousand dollars for territory fees—don’t know what that means—and another twelve thousand for cabin fees from Mr. Zajic and was paying Donna eight thousand dollars. So he pocketed at least twenty-eight thousand dollars a month for himself. Haven’t found an agreement of any sort so I’m guessing it was blackmail. The man was a pro, on the payroll of a wide range of folks from police officers to lawyers to judges to members of parliament. Nasty man. He had to be responsible for Donna’s name change. I just don’t get why.”

  “There’s no way in hell my mom was getting eight thousand dollars a month. We lived like sewer rats most of the time.”

  Two guilty pair of eyes swiveled to face her. Guy stood from where he’d been perched on the corner of the bed. Bailey stepped back, putting her hands in the air, halting his forward motion toward her. She stepped around him and over a pile of papers to lean over and look at the monitor. Graham looked at Guy but he didn’t change the screen.

  “What proof do you have?”

  Graham showed her the files from the flash drive, how they were encrypted and the amount of detail. The records definitely indicated her mom had been paid each month. Eight thousand dollars would have made a huge difference in her life. They could have stayed in one place.

  “It didn’t happen.” Looking beseechingly at Graham, she asked, “Is it possible he recorded cheque payments that never existed?”

  “Yes. But I don’t have any proof.”

  “What would you need to find it?”

  “Access to his bank accounts, any other accounting records he might have maintained.”

  Pursing her lips, Bailey stared into space, mentally retracing her visit with Mr. Lund. “I might know how to get that.” She grabbed her backpack from where it had been chucked in the corner and pulled out her bag. Opening it, she took out the two letters that had been given to her. Her name, written in her mom’s meticulous handwriting, stopped her. Tears flooded her eyes. Her index finger traced her name as the craziness of the past week started to crash in on her. Nothing made sense and she was tired of looking like a blubbering idiot. “I need some time.” Stuffing the envelope in her pocket, she raced from the room.

  She didn’t stop until she’d unlocked the four deadbolts, flung open the front door and was soon four blocks away. Gasping for breath, she quit running and bent over, bracing her hands on her knees. She stood like that for a few moments, not paying any attention to the people who walked around her. It wasn’t until she raised her head that she realized she wasn’t alone.

  “I...”

  “It’s all right. I think you’re entitled. Let it go. How about we go for a walk? There’s a park about another two or three blocks from here.” Guy gestured to his left.

  She nodded and fell into step with him. It was the most normal thing she’d done in a long time, one that helped compel her to talk.

  “My mom... or the woman I knew as Mom...”

  “Don’t. It’s okay to call her Mom, still. That’s what she was. Right or wrong.”

  Pressing her hand to her chest, she continued, “She was always conservative with our money. It’s just not possible that she was getting a cheque for that much each month. If it’s true that kind of money was exchanging hands, I think Lund was keeping it and we were his tax evasion. On paper he’d give the money to others when really he’d keep it for himself. There were times we’d all of a sudden have some cash but it never lasted; there were long stretches between those tiny jackpots.”

  She turned to look at Guy and waited until he looked at her, “I don’t know where that money came from. Maybe Lund. But there’s no way she got it every month. She did some questionable things to earn enough cash just so we could eat. I always knew where the cash was, how much we had and where it went. She wanted me to know about the evils of our monetary system. She wanted me to know how to save money, because she was always scared I’d be taken advantage of.”

  Though they walked in silence, Bailey’s mind was anything but silent.

  “Do you think her husband, Doug Zajic, could have done that to her? If he abused her would that be why she was running? Was he what she was scared of?”

  Guy stepped onto the park path, stopped and put his arms around he
r. She couldn’t help but stiffen.

  “Relax. I’m not going to do anything. I’m here for you. That’s all.”

  His hand rubbed circles on her back, bringing up a strong memory.

  “Oh Mama. That feels soooooooo goooooooooood.” Bailey tried not to squirm while her mom rubbed her hand over her back, beginning softly and gently before becoming firmer, then softly once more. She loved when her mom touched her. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  “I won’t, sweetheart. I won’t ever stop. I love you, Bails. Don’t forget that.”

  “She loved me.” Startled by the revelation and the fact that she’d laid her head on Guy’s shoulder, she pulled back.

  “I’m sure she did. Let’s sit down.” They sat on a park bench, thighs touching.

  “You said you could get the information on the bank accounts. How?”

  She dug into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelopes. Without looking at them, she handed them to him. He studied the pictures, doodles and designs.

  “She was quite talented, wasn’t she?” He started to open one of the envelopes but stopped when Bailey’s hand landed on his.

  “The answers are right there.”

  Turning it around and around and around, he finally gave it back to her. “All right, I give up. I can’t make any sense of it.”

  “That’s the whole point.” She smoothed out both envelopes side by side. Pointing to some drawings, she explained, “This is a law book and this is a police badge underneath it.”

  “Let me see that.” Guy studied it for a moment. “Wow. I see it now. It’s like the Rorschach tests; you know—inkblots. This is cool.”

  Bailey smiled. “Yeah, she was talented. It took me a while but I learned to read her doodles. This one,” pointing to the one they’d just been discussing, “means that someone thinks they’re above the law.”

  “I don’t get it. Why would the law book be above the police badge? Shouldn’t ...”

  “Sorry. It means that someone in the judicial system thinks they are above the law.”

  “Lund?”

  “Yeah. See this wormlike thing on this fishing hook? That stands for Lund.” She didn’t explain that was how she’d figured out the cabin. She wasn’t sure why her mom had chosen that symbol for him, though. She knew it meant something more.

  Guy chuckled as he studied the pictures. He put his hand to his chest. An image of Lund doing that same move flashed through Bailey’s mind.

  She clapped her hands. “Oh my God. Oh my God. I missed it. Dammit.” Jumping to her feet, she paced back and forth in front of the bench.

  “Do you want to share?”

  She stopped and looked at him but couldn’t quite pause her thoughts long enough to focus on him. “Uhmm... he said to me, ‘your mom said you’d be full of questions’. How would he know that unless he’d known Mom was dying? For Mom to say something like that she’d have been very stressed. He knew. That pig, he knew. She had to have been in his house. That’s how she knew about his jump drive and she wouldn’t have trusted anyone but me. What else did Graham find?”

  Guy met her gaze briefly before looking away. “You know most of it. Lund was blackmailing a number of people. He has written files, recordings, pictures... He was running a scam; he’d use his skills as a lawyer to get certain guys off in exchange for them getting dirt on powerful people. He’d pay them a pittance and my guess is he also kept them out of jail. He made hundreds of thousands of dollars off other people. Great retirement fund, I’m sure. It would take months to unravel it all. We just looked through the basics.”

  “I can’t believe we lived like street urchins damn near my whole life and that son of a bitch was making money because of us. I’ll kill him.” She looked at him and then away and then back. “Look, I need to tell you what happened at the airport today. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but... someone tried to grab me. He snatched me from behind and was forcing me to go with him.”

  The sound of something zinging past caused Guy to dive to the ground, taking her with him.

  She yelped in surprise, “What the hell?”

  A few feet away, the dirt sprayed up. Someone was shooting at them. Guy grabbed her hand and nodded toward a grove of trees several feet away. Simultaneously, they ran, half-crouched, behind them as several more shots followed. Grass and gravel bounced up, missing her leg by mere inches, so close it was as if the bullet whispered to her as it passed by. Not waiting to see what Guy did, she sprinted, running for all she was worth.

  Huffing, he caught up. “This way.” Winding their way through the park and out the other side, they raced down serpentine streets, passing through back yards and crouching low behind anything that could serve as a barrier. Finally, they stopped to catch their breath.

  “Okay, that word is off limits.”

  Beat, she dropped her head back against a weed-infested fence for a second, wondering what it would be like to make it through an entire day clean. Memories of her childhood came flooding back; dirty, grimy places. Places where they were lucky if there was enough running water to drink, let alone bathe and wash clothes.

  As his statement penetrated her thoughts, she looked at him.

  “What word?”

  “Kill. I don’t think it’s the first time you’ve mentioned it and someone has taken offense to it.”

  She almost smiled, but since her lips were too tired to move, she soaked up his humor instead.

  He punched a button on his phone. “Graham. Call the cops. Report a shooting at Tennessee Park. Okay? Don’t mention us.”

  “No, we’re fine. No idea. Come pick us up. We’re in the back alley...”

  Bailey stopped listening. Her life had gone to hell and she didn’t know how to make it stop. It seemed the nightmare of having to flee, to always be on the lookout, the horrors of her childhood, weren’t over yet. There always seemed to be a price to pay.

  Is there always going to be someone after me? Someone who wants to right some wrong, just because I was born?

  She recalled a movie about the Devil’s child. Lowering her head to her bent knees, she wondered if that child was her.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  “I think it’s time we used your grandmother’s connections,” Graham said as soon as his two passengers climbed into his Hummer.

  “Nice vehicle.” Bailey settled back in the roomy, clean back seat, the exact opposite of his car.

  Guy was busy typing messages to Graham and then holding his phone for him to read it. Bailey, thankfully, was too awed at the view the vehicle’s height afforded. He’d been like that the first time, too.

  Did you find the information I asked for?

  Graham casually nodded.

  Is she part of it?

  Graham pursed his lips but shook his head.

  Fact or opinion?

  Graham put up two fingers to indicate the second option.

  No evidence though.

  He shook his head sharply.

  Sinking back, Guy felt relief struggling against the queasiness roiling in his stomach. He couldn’t shut his mind off to the thought that this was going to get uglier.

  “We all need a good night’s sleep and then we’ll set up a meeting tomorrow. Any ideas?”

  Bailey leaned forward between the seats. “I thought you said we’d be safe at Graham’s.”

  “I thought we would be. Obviously, someone found us. My mistake.”

  “Who do you think it is?”

  Guy was aware of her intense stare but refused to meet her eyes. He shrugged. She turned to Graham. When he glanced back at her, Guy caught his attention and very slightly moved his head side to side.

  “Uh... not sure...”

  Guy jerked upright. “What are we doing here?” He looked at the large wrought iron gates before his gaze slid off to the stone guard house on the right.

  Graham sheepishly looked straight ahead. “I couldn’t think of anywhere with better security.”

  �
��Dammit, Graham. We can’t stay here.”

  “Better to den with the lion than have him chase you through the jungle.”

  “May I ask who’s calling?” the guard bent to peer into the vehicle.

  “Well, hello, Mr. Turner. We weren’t expecting you. My apologies; I’m not sure what happened to the notice informing us of your arrival.”

  Guy sighed heavily. “There wasn’t one.” He’d learned a long time ago to call ahead to let them know he was coming. It saved him a lot of anguish and a lot of lectures. “In fact, Jim, there isn’t one. We’re gonna go. Grandma’s probably busy with one group or another. So we’ll just—”

  “No need sir; I’ve just informed her of your arrival.” The guard snapped to attention and smiled.

  Guy crossed his eyes, giving Graham a fierce look. “Thank you, Jim.” He should have recalled Jim’s efficiency borne of twenty years of working for his grandmother. The large metal gates with its design of intricately woven vines and leaves soundlessly swung open.

  “This is where you grew up?” Bailey leaned forward, her eyes wide.

  Graham’s head swung sideways, giving him a questioning look. Guy glared back. Graham’s eyes widened in comprehension as guilt landed on Guy’s shoulders like an immovable boulder. When was he going to tell Bailey who her family was? Better question was how.

  Following the tree-lined winding cobbled road for a quarter mile, they suddenly burst into a clearing. Bailey gasped. Her left hand covered her mouth as her right hand fumbled to unclasp her seatbelt. She scooted as far forward as she could without climbing into the front seat. “Oh my God, are we at the White House?”

  “What?”

  “Isn’t this what you’d imagine the White House to be like?”

  Guy gazed at the white stone columns that flanked the front of the three-story house, balancing a huge balcony on top, as if seeing it for the first time. Vines cascaded over the sides, wrapping themselves around the ornately carved pillars.

  “Oh my God. And if I say that more than once, tough. Oh my God.” Her head swung side to side, her eyes peeled wide open.

  Guy chuckled. The first time he’d visited had been memorable as well. He’d been so intimidated by the mansion looming over him like a dragon that he’d peed his pants. His hand automatically went to the back of his head where his uncle Geoff had cuffed him for being such a baby. It had only been the first of many such interactions with his uncle.