Claire Gulliver #06 - Carnage Goes Coastal (15 page)

“Of course I’m sure. It took this long because we had to go back and track through her life to figure who she would most likely turn to for help. We couldn’t find any information about her father. Her mother has remarried, changed her name and moved with her husband to some godforsaken place in Chile. That took us a bit of trouble to find her. And then she turned out to be no help at all.”

He seemed to realize how whiny his voice had become and paused a moment He recovered a bit to say calmly, “Well that’s all past now. We were able to reconstruct what happened at the hotel where we lost her. We not only got pictures of the person who met her, but we got the license plate number of the vehicle they were driving. It took forever to get the owner’s information from the Vehicle Registration Office but we were finally successful. So, I sent my men to San Francisco with orders to resolve the problem immediately. And I made sure they knew it was to look accidental I expect by tomorrow I can confirm the deed is done. And your problem will be resolved.”

I felt a wave of relief. Even though life had been progressing smoothly lately, I didn’t like leaving loose ends around which could potentially throw a monkey wrench into the gears of our smoothly running plan. It was a relief that issue would finally be resolved. I heaped some lavish praise on Wade, clamping my mouth shut on the temptation to throw more grief at him about the way he had botched this job previously. I was big enough to let bygones be gone. And besides, good help was hard to find these days and who knows what little jobs I might need him for in the future.

“Scott, that was the last time I’ll be trapped like that. What were you thinking?”

Scott half turned to study Phoebe’s face. Now he could see her silence was due to a barely suppressed fury, not fatigue as he had thought. “What? Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”

“No, I did not. It was awful. I spent way too many hours stuck amongst those dull women who only wanted to talk about recipes and their children’s schools. Even the food they served was awful. Hot dogs and potato salad? Who cared if they added Italian Dressing to the salad? And all those kids running about. They gave me a frightful headache. And every time I joined a group discussing something interesting it seemed as if the men froze me out. It was like I was trapped in a 1950’s TV drama. Aren’t the women allowed to have an opinion?”

“Phoebe, it was a typical suburban block party. I thought it was really nice of Hadden and his wife to include us and give us a chance to meet their friends and neighbors. These people are the voters we need to support us. This is just a sample of what the campaigns we’re anticipating are going to be like. I thought you were committed to this. I thought this is what you wanted.”

“I am not going to picnics to eat hot dogs and admire dirty children, Scott. That’s not my thing. And those people are not prepared to support your campaign, at least not monetarily. They came to see the newest senator, that’s all. And your friend Hadden didn’t invite us to garner support for you, he and his wife were too busy adding to their own prestige by showing off their association with a U.S. senator. You weren’t using them, they were using you!”

“I’m sorry you were bored, Phoebe. But I think you’re wrong about the value of events such as these. I foresee there will have to be many of these kinds of events during the next few years if I’m going to win this seat in the next election. I thought you understood campaigning is more than presiding over a dinner table filled with glamorous and wealthy supporters who carry on intelligent conversations.

“Hadden and people like him and his neighbors are the ones who will vote me into office. Or not! I need their support. If you find these activities so odious we’ll try to limit your future appearances to those you like. But I warn you, when we declare for presidency, the rules will change. Then you won’t be able to be so picky. Then we all will have to take advantage of every opportunity given to us to meet with the voters.”

“Scott, you’re too naïve. You will waste your time and get nothing out of it. You need a manager already. I’m going to talk to Dad. He’s good at this. Let him take charge of your appearances. He will see you appear places that will give you a wider exposure and at the same time a hefty fee to add to your campaign chest. He’s already suggested we think about adding a speech writer to your staff. I think that’s a good idea. It will make sure you get the most out of every opportunity. After all we don’t have a lot of time to build up support. We need you to make a splash at every venue.

“And as far as this Hadden goes, he may be helpful to you in his role representing the energy field, goodness knows that’s a key issue, but please let’s not be buddy-buddy with his whole family. I don’t think I can tolerate any more conversation with his wife. Can’t you two just meet for lunch or something?”

Scott shook his head at the distasteful expression on Phoebe’s face. She was a snob, he knew that, and he would have to learn to work around her attitude and just be grateful she was bankrolling the expenses for this campaign.

Jack was impressed with the security camera coverage at the Crown Plaza. The cameras were obviously serviced regularly because the images were clear on the monitor in front of him. And each camera had been placed strategically to get the maximum coverage. The camera at the check in desk clearly caught the faces of customers approaching the desk, but it also had a good view of the lobby in the background where he watched Claire come in and take a seat. And later he watched Karen get off the airport bus on the camera set up in the portico at the front entrance. That camera also captured a clear view of each car and bus which drove past the entrance.

He watched enthralled by the little drama Karen and Claire had described to him as he watched it play out on the cameras. He was extremely grateful for Seville’s cautious and thorough use of the security cameras. He hoped it was going to prove to be a life saver. He watched as the man they called, Tan Jacket, came in. He noted the digits running along the bottom of the film so a picture could be printed of Tan Jacket’s face while he talked to the clerk at the check in desk. And he saw the group of women leave after Claire bumped into the one carrying the tote bag. He marked the film for a picture of the van and its license plate. He could see Claire standing near the door as Tan Jacket raced out and got into a dark SUV. He actually chuckled to himself and said, “Gottcha” as the SUV drove past flashing a clear view of the license plate to the camera. He wasn’t quite as happy when several minutes further on the monitor he saw Claire’s trusty old SUV pass and saw how clearly her license plate was recorded. He knew for certain if those PI’s were tracking Karen, they must have gotten the license number of Claire’s SUV.

Jack fought back the urge to leave immediately for the airport. He was suddenly very afraid for his women folk. But he reminded himself he was too far away. It would take him two or three hours to get back. He had to rely on Claire doing the right things in response to his warning. He knew from prior experience she was capable of protecting herself, Karen and the baby. Besides, it would take a while for those PI’s to trace that information and get to Bayside.

So instead of racing out he wrote down the description of the dark SUV and the license number, and then because he was the kind of person who left nothing to chance, he recorded the description and license number of the white van which transported the ladies carrying the bug.

He took the paper with the numbers he marked on it and wandered back to the lunchroom to find Rafe and Steve drinking coffee and exchanging stories about past cases they had.

“Are your eyes crossed yet?” Rafe asked.

“Not really. If you’ve ever reviewed the films at the airport you’d agree that yours are like a commercial movie in comparison. And if this didn’t work for me, the airport security office would have been my next stop.” Jack poured himself a cup of the thick dark coffee which had been on the burner too long. The jolt from the first sip went all the way to his toes. “I found what I was looking for. I wondered if either of you has a contact at the Motor Vehicle Department?”

Both men nodded. “What do you need?”

Jack held out the paper. “I’d like the registration information on these two vehicles. And Rafe, I was wondering if you could look at the picture I found of one of the guys I’m tracing. I’m wondering if he could be one of the two PI’s who were here looking at the film?”

Steve took the piece of paper and went to find an empty desk with a telephone. Rafe joined Jack at the monitor, where Jack quickly went back to the place where he found Tan Jacket’s picture.

“Son of a gun! That’s the guy, Lou. Lou Kolwaski was his name.” He turned and looked at Jack. “You think these PI’s are stalking your daughter?”

Jack didn’t answer that question, countering instead with, “Tell me what you know about this Hampton Security Company. Where did you meet Hampton? What do you know about the company?”

Rafe thought a minute. “Let’s see, I met him at a conference I was attending in New York. Hampton made a presentation. He’s kind of a character. He dresses like a tough PI from one of those grade B movies from the forties. You know, pin-striped dark suits, black shirt and ties and white handkerchief in his pocket? But the guy knows the business. He did a great job with his presentation and later when a friend introduced us at the bar, I enjoyed talking to him. I do remember someone mentioned to me later he was an ex-CIA operative. I heard it was something about a misunderstanding which forced him out of the company. I don’t really know any of the details. But he seemed to have landed on his feet. He took everything he knew and opened his own security company. He has some big name clients.”

Rafe shook his head. “I guess I really don’t know much about him. But when those guys said they worked for him I did whatever I could to help.”

He looked at Jack with a troubled expression. “I hope I didn’t do anything to help them do harm to your girl. What can I do to help? Do you want me to call Wade and get some details?”

“No! No, don’t do that! If they are tracking Karen they’re not liable to admit it. So your phone call would only serve to alert them I’m on their trail. I think it’s best for me to just pay them a little surprise visit. I’m more likely to get the information I need from them that way.” Jack’s grim voice conveyed his meaning to Rafe.

Rafe called over the technician, instructing him to immediately produce copies of the pictures Jack had marked on the film. While he busied himself printing out the pictures Steve returned with a frown on his face.

“What did you get, Steve?” Jack asked.

“I don’t think you’re going to like it, Jack. I got the registration information on the SUV. It’s registered to one of the two PI’s who were here. But it’s the white van that’s the shocker. That van was totaled on the Four-Oh-Five freeway near the Long Beach freeway on the night of April twenty-eighth. An unidentified dark SUV sideswiped the van forcing it into the path of a tanker truck entering the freeway from the Long Beach Freeway. They’re still looking for that SUV.

“When I recovered from the shock of hearing that, I called the highway patrol and got the name and number of the investigating officer for you.” He handed Jack a piece of paper with the information on it.

“And...?” Jack asked grimly. “Fatalities?”

Steve nodded. “They didn’t say how many, but apparently the freeway was closed for most of the night. It must have been bad.”

“This isn’t good. My wife will be blaming herself because she planted that bug to divert the attention of the guy who was following Karen.

“And my daughter, Karen, is still haunted by the people in her apartment building who were killed in the fire in New York. I really don’t want her to hear there is even more carnage resulting from this situation she’s involved in.”

“But surely they both will understand there is
no
way they could have known these guys would have been so ruthless they would just take out a van full of people without even checking to see if the person they were tracking was one of the passengers. I mean, that’s crazy! It wasn’t your wife’s or your daughter’s fault.” Steve was incredulous at the thought.

Jack shrugged. He knew his girls. Then he glanced at the clock realizing how much time had elapsed since he talked to Claire. She should be settled and have called by now. He felt the lurch of fear in his gut. Why hadn’t she called?

He stood up abruptly. “Excuse me a moment, I need to call them and make sure they’re okay.” His phone rang as if on cue and he smiled, seeing Karen’s name on the readout screen. “There’s my daughter now.”

The smile of relief which had spread over his face disappeared as soon as he heard Karen’s tightly controlled voice. He knew immediately it wasn’t going to be good news and he steeled himself to prepare for the worse.

He folded up his phone and put it in his pocket. “I won’t need to spring a surprise visit on those PI’s. They’re dead!” he tersely told Rafe and Steve, gathering up the pile of prints the technician had laid on the table. Jack started moving toward the door. “My wife is in the hospital unconscious. They’re checking her for internal injuries. The police are bringing in search dogs to check my house for explosives. I was just a little too late with my warning. Fortunately, my daughter and grandson seem to have escaped injury.”

“Wait just a moment.” Rafe called, “I’ll take you. I can get you to the airport by the back roads in the shortest amount of time. I know the security director for the airport. I’ll have my secretary call him and arrange to have someone meet us at the curb to get you through security and on the next flight to San Francisco.”

The three men were dashing for the elevator to the underground parking garage while Rafe was issuing instructions to his secretary via his cell phone.

Jack approached the information desk at Peninsula Hospital in Burlingame less than two hours after he left the offices of Crown Plaza’s Security Department. It had been a harrowing plane ride. He had sat through the flight with clenched teeth, willing the pilot to go faster, while he berated himself for his failure to protect his family. When Rafe dropped him at the curb at LAX two airport security officers had been waiting for him in one of their little carts. They sped him through the security checkpoint to the jetway still attached to the plane they were holding for him. As soon as he entered the cabin and the flight attendant ushered him to a seat in first class just inside the door, the plane backed away from the gate. When they landed in San Francisco, the flight attendant held everyone back until he exited, telling him a cart was waiting for him inside the waiting area and he was whisked through the airport once more and deposited at the curb near the taxi stand. Fortunately, the hospital was only a short ride from the airport.