“Have you ever met him?”
Boland nodded with more relief and his breathing began to normalize. “Yeah. In Austin. We met at the airport ... last year.”
Kirkland set the torch and the pliers down on the table as Yamaguchi walked around into view. “Last year ... and what did you do for him last year?”
Boland seemed to sag and he lowered his head as if we were embarrassed. “I kept track of when the boss was in the office.”
“That’s all?”
“Well, that and I copied the phone system call records ... the calls made from the boss’ office number.”
“What else?”
“Just this ... the paper stuff,” he said miserably then shook his head gingerly. “I needed money. I really needed money ... a lot of it. I’ve never done anything like this before, believe me.”
Kirkland eased back in his chair. Without commenting on the bumbling fool’s attempt at burglary he simply asked, “Money? Really?”
Boland nodded glumly.
“Dennis, Mr. Calder is prepared to make you an offer you’re in no position to refuse.”
An odd look of relief mixed with misunderstanding crossed Boland’s face. “He what?”
“The Calders don’t like publicity ... Mr. Calder is especially sensitive to it for purely economic reasons. You should know that.”
For several moments Boland couldn’t assemble a cohesive train of thought about why that was important to him then the inkling of not being handed over to the police if he were cooperative came to him. “So ... so ... I do what? What do I do?”
“Give us Bailey.”
Several seconds later Boland offered, “I did ... didn’t I?” He looked at the other man for confirmation but there was none.
Kirkland tipped his head, squinted slightly and leaned closer. “We want him to come here.”
Still shaken from what he had just gone through it made him more than a little queasy to think of what might happen to Bailey.
Kirkland spoke again. “As far as anyone knows, you might just have succeeded in this little mission of yours today, right?”
Boland didn’t know how to react for a few moments. “Ah ... I guess,” he said, still uncertain as to what that meant.
“Bailey doesn’t know you got caught, does he?”
It wasn’t long before he realized what that meant. “No ... no, he couldn’t.”
“You see, Dennis, all you really have to do is tell him you now have what he was after,” Kirkland advised. “And he has to come and get it.”
A flood of fears and emotions dashed around in Boland’s mind and the idea of actually being able to get away came to the forefront. But it wasn’t long before hope was replaced with doubt. “I, I, ah, I don’t think he will.”
“I disagree, Dennis.” Kirkland leaned back in the chair again. “What if you were able to tell Mr. Bailey that you know exactly where to find the man his client is actually looking for?”
Boland’s mouth hung open and he struggled with how he could make that happen.
Kirkland saw the hesitancy, mostly brought on by fear but also by the fact that the man’s future was now a complete unknown to him. “There’s an offer on the table, Mr. Boland. One that includes you getting your money from Bailey and not being handed over to the police.”
“But, but I don’t know ... I, I don’t know who ... who, or even what he’s looking for,” Boland quickly admitted.
Kirkland smiled broadly. “You don’t have to, Dennis!” he said encouragingly. “I do. All you have to do is convince Bailey that you do.”
Like a drowning man Boland was now grasping for any floating object in the ocean and the dangerous man was offering one. “So ... all, all I have to do is get him, get him to, to meet me?”
Kirkland nodded.
“But meet me where?”
“You need a safe place away from here to rendezvous. One he’s familiar with.”
Boland was clearly out of his league in formulating such a plan. “Where’s that?”
“The same place you met before. You said it was Austin.”
Boland could only nod hesitantly in agreement.
“Monday or Tuesday,” Kirkland said flatly. “The time of day is up to him and the airline schedules.”
The desperate man’s eyes darted around. “But ... what do I give him?”
“How much does he owe you?” Kirkland countered quickly.
Boland froze at the thought and after a few seconds he admitted, “Still twenty ... twenty thousand.”
Kirkland nodded agreeably and said, “Tell him to bring cash.”
The confusion was plain in Boland’s repeat of his question: “But what will I give him?”
Kirkland responded icily, “A surprise.”
- # -
Elanore had been horrified by the sounds she heard coming from her mother in-law’s kitchen and her hands revealed her distress, clenching and rubbing as if she was putting on lotion.
Margaret soothed in a whisper, “He didn’t touch him, El.” When that didn’t seem to have any affect she added bluntly, “He promised he wouldn’t hurt him. I wouldn’t have told the Captain where to find the torch unless he’d promised.”
“But he’s already hurt,” Elanore argued.
Margaret sounded unsympathetic. “I only hit him once ... he doesn’t even have a concussion.”
“He’s just scared shitless,” Alex said calmly. “For all he knows, the Professor could be Hannibal Lecter.”
Elanore shuddered at the thought as she recalled how gracious and urbane Kirkland was and despite his explanation of white and black hats in such things, she was decidedly uncomfortable; she worried again about the fact they knew so little about him.
The double doors opened and Kirkland stepped into the great room and looked first at Margaret. “Your patient is fine, Mrs. C., and very cooperative ... I think now would be a good time to go ahead with getting him patched up if need be.”
Yamaguchi offered, “It wouldn’t be my first assist, Ma’am.”
Margaret looked up at the younger man and a sinister smile started to form. “Something tells me he’ll be scared shitless of both of us.”
Elanore took a deep breath and made a ‘whew’ sound as she stood up. “I’m glad that’s over,” she said then asked nervously, “Do you think he knows about the jewels?”
Kirkland shook his head. “I seriously doubt it. He was hired last year to keep track of your agenda, Mr. Calder. He also copied phone records from your office extension.”
Calder looked stunned. “My phone couldn’t be bugged—”
“Not bugged, just the records from your phone system of all the numbers you called and all the numbers of people who called you.”
“Shit,” Calder hissed.
“That may or may not have helped them find you,” Kirkland said as he turned to Margaret. “It seems to me they were already suspicious and were caught off-guard when your husband passed away.”
Elanore couldn’t hide the concern and anger when she asked, “So they’ve been looking ... they’ve been watching us for a year?”
Kirkland nodded. “It appears so. Boland was re-hired for this, to find anything and everything he could get his hands on about you and your past.”
“Now what ... what do we do with him?” Elanore asked.
“I’ll put a bolt on the outside of one of the guestroom doors,” Alex suggested.
Kirkland lowered his head slightly to catch her eye. “We caught the bait. We’re now prepared for some serious fishing next week.”
Margaret pointed at him and suggested, “You’ve got more important things to think about.”
CHAPTER 21
Houston, Texas, Friday, May 23, 1997
Catherine Cruz couldn’t resist going to the front windows of her house a few times in the minutes before 3:30 in the afternoon, each time trying to deny she was having feelings she hadn’t felt in a very long time. She had happily followed Kirkla
nd’s suggestion to wear ‘something casual to start with’ and despite her curiosity she hadn’t given him any hint of concern when he recommended she pack something ‘nice but not too-formal’ for dinner. Nor had she reacted negatively when Kirkland advised her they would have ‘rooms’, plural, for the night before returning late on Saturday afternoon in time for dinner at the Calder’s.
She tried to not let her imagination run too far, too fast. Is he planning something more than dinner? Of course he is ... at least I hope he’s at least considering it, she had thought more than once during the day.
Despite any number of dates and two fairly involved relationships since her divorce, this was the first time Catherine finally understood what Elanore had told her about falling in love with Alex, describing it as a realization that someone had turned on a switch inside her – one that she never wanted to have turned off. Despite the mere hours she had known him, thoughts that Michael Kirkland might be that man were keeping her imagination busy – almost to the point of being annoyingly distracted.
When she saw the black Suburban pull into the driveway of her small home in the Hunters Creek suburb she was again puzzled; my knight in shining armor arrives in a rented covered wagon, she thought. But as she watched him walk up the sidewalk her heart accelerated as she saw the loose-fitting non-designer jeans and a blue short-sleeved knitted silk shirt that revealed the contours of a body honed by serious exercise. “Whoa,” she whispered aloud.
After the chime sounded she deliberately counted to ten before she opened the door. “Well, how was Dallas?” she asked brightly before stepping back and welcoming him in.
He smiled and tipped his head slightly and appeared to be in thought. “Profitable,” he finally said with a quick nod.
Profitable? What does that mean? “Good, good ... so, would you like a drink or something?”
“No, no, thanks,” he said then glanced around and spotted her one piece of luggage at the bottom of the stairs. “I see you’re ready.”
“Where are you taking me?”
He took one of her hands and raised it close to his lips. Keeping his eyes locked on hers he answered, “As I promised, someplace you’ve never been.”
With her heart accelerating she admitted, “Well that could be any number of places.” She took a breath then stepped back slightly and asked, “Am I dressed for it?”
He took the opportunity to look more closely at the jeans and the form-fitting, ribbed-knit sleeveless top. Even with only a hint of visible cleavage the white top immediately drew attention to the definite distinction between her breasts and flat stomach.
Trying not to appear too atavistic all he could say was, “Perfect,” but the urge to take her in his arms and restart from where they had left off in her car arose. He caught himself and made only one more subtle suggestion: “Maybe athletic shoes.”
“Oh ... they’re in my bag,” she noted and gestured toward the rolling travel case. “Why?”
“It’s a surprise,” he admonished.
She looked down at his feet and saw a pair of rugged-looking Doc Martens. “Hiking?” she prodded.
“In this heat?” he scoffed. “I’m a Yankee, remember?”
- # -
As he began driving toward David Wayne Hooks airport, instead of waiting for her to start asking questions Kirkland decided it was safe to lay out the entire story of what had been going on since he received the original call from Barton Commoner almost a week earlier.
After listening in stunned silence Catherine finally said more than asked, “So your very private client is Al.”
Kirkland only grinned sheepishly and nodded in response.
The story about the Calder family’s actual background and Margaret mysteriously receiving Romanov items was shocking enough, but when he added the details about Dennis Boland being caught in Margaret’s house her eyes widened in shock. “He’s at the ranch? Not in jail?”
“He’s bait,” Kirkland said simply.
The idea seemed preposterous – then she realized she was riding somewhere with a man who seemed perfectly at ease with what sounded like a movie plot where people took the law into their own hands. They have a guy locked away at the ranch? “He’s bait? For what?”
As if it were just an every-day occurrence he glanced across at her and went on matter-of-factly, “To get to the man that hired him. A fellow out of Virginia by the name of Bailey ... who will then lead us to the predators up the food chain.”
Thoughts of who that might involve included the Russians and the ramifications of that make her distinctly uncomfortable. “Russians?”
Kirkland saw the obvious look of distress on her face and said, “Could be. All we know is someone is looking for Margaret and Cecil’s old Russian friend. We think he’s somewhere in England.”
Catherine’s unease was growing but her mind began dwelling on her friends’ situation under the weight of what she had just learned about them. What would everyone around here think about Cecil Calder being a Russian – a communist at that? “I can see Al not wanting to tell the police,” she said. “Wow, it’s hard to imagine how this would play out around here.” She shook her head slowly as she tried to think of what that kind of publicity would mean to her friends. “How did El take it?”
Kirkland’s mouth wrinkled into a wry smile. “Ah ... well—”
“Pissed?” Catherine offered.
He nodded. “A fair summation ... but not for very long.” He actually chuckled before adding, “At one point when we showed her the ruby she thought I had switched them the other night.”
Catherine was at a loss to respond as she thought of what her friends must be going through. Equally daunting was trying to imagine the senior Calders as refugees from behind the Iron Curtain. “How’s Mrs. C. holding up?”
Kirkland thought for a few seconds and sighed. “Well ... she seems relieved, actually, but she’s primarily worried about finding the General.”
“And she’s okay with having this Boland guy around?”
“He’s in a guest room at the other house. And he’s being very cooperative ... he really doesn’t have any options. Bailey is supposed to bring him his money next week.”
“Ah. That must be worth waiting for.”
“Twenty thousand in cash ... it’s that or jail.”
She marveled at the idea of Margaret being so calm and collected that she had lured the man into a trap. “In one way it’s hard to see a little old lady clubbing a guy but in another way I can just picture her grinning at him when he woke up.”
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Kirkland agreed then mentioned almost in passing, “Alex told me their son should be there before dark,” he added. “That seemed to reassure her.”
Catherine sighed and nodded with some relief. “That’s right – Marty will be here for the holiday.”
“An extra pair of eyes I suppose.” Kirkland offered.
“Uh huh,” she agreed. “I think you’d like him. He’s only twenty-three—wait —maybe twenty-four ... yes, twenty-four. Once you get used to everything and everybody being ‘dude’ he’s a great guy ... he’s in law school at UT.”
Kirkland resisted the urge to make a derisive joke as he thought of the legal profession in general; instead he decided to remain polite. “Is he like his father or more like his mother?”
Catherine thought for a moment before answering. “Well, he’s about six inches taller than his dad and a lot bulkier.”
Kirkland’s eyes widened at the thought of someone that large; he made Alex Calder to be six feet in height and about one-seventy. “That big?” he asked incredulously.
“Even taller than his grandpa ... Ceece was a bit over six feet. The first time I met Marty he was taller than me ... and he was just a kid.”
“Basketball player?”
She shook her head. “Baseball. He could have played pro ball but he decided to stick it out in school.”
Knowing how hard it was to even get on
a major college baseball squad let alone a professional team Kirkland asked seriously, “He really could have played in the majors?”
“They had scouts and agents all over the place two or three years ago.”
“What position?”
“Center field and first base ... what they really wanted was his hitting.”
Kirkland suddenly realized she knew more about baseball than he had expected – what she said next confirmed it.
“He hit .345 his junior year ... and .385 as a senior.”
“Wow!” He looked back and forth from the mirrors and traffic to her a few times. “You seem to know something about baseball.”
She gave him a disparaging look he didn’t turn to see. “My family on both sides was originally from Cuba ... baseball is a religion. My grandfather played there.”
Kirkland nodded in amazement and asked, “Who do you have for the series?”
“The Marlins, of course,” she answered as if he should have known then she enjoyed the duly impressed reaction on his face. She turned and watched the road ahead for a few moments then suddenly wondered why Kirkland was still taking the time to take her out. “Shouldn’t you be at the ranch?”
He smiled at her and said, “Priorities. We can’t do anything more until we get Bailey here. And that’s not going to happen until after the holiday ... Elanore wanted to make sure we were back for the party.”
She grinned, realizing that with Kirkland along the traditional Memorial Day event at the Calders was probably going to be quite different for her this year. “It’s more than a party,” she said.
Kirkland shot her a confused glance between looking in the mirrors.
“They do it every year. They didn’t tell you?”
He shook his head. “Just that we should be there ... you can imagine they’ve been somewhat distracted.”
Catherine considered what had happened and felt a wave of concern for her friends and what they must be going through at a time when social obligations couldn’t be set aside. “It really is a big deal,” she said then explained how Memorial Day had worked at the Calder ranch for at least the last ten years.
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