Deja Vu (25 page)

“Listen, this morning when I was over at Annie’s farm, one of the contractors stopped by, then this man came by and … he was meandering around like he knew the property. He didn’t do anything wrong, but looky-loos way out here are not the norm, and you can’t really see the farmhouse from the road, so the man had to drive in like he knew where it was. All he said was it was nice to know someone was going to refurbish the old house after so many years. Then he left. I didn’t think anything about it till just now.”

The little group descended on Isabelle like a flotilla of locusts, all of them shouting, “What did he look like?”

“I can do better than tell you, I can show you. I’ll sketch his likeness.” Isabelle walked over to her leather bag, which she’d tossed in the corner with a dozen long rolls of blueprints still sticking out of it. She pulled out a white artist’s pad and a charcoal pen and went to work.

The group was so intent on watching Isabelle’s deft strokes they didn’t know that Alexis had entered the kitchen until her dog Grady raced through the house to chase the others.

“Hey, I know that guy. I saw him not two hours ago.”

The little group turned and gawked up at Alexis, their mouths hanging open.

“Why are you all looking at me like this? Who is that guy?” Alexis said, pointing to the sketch on Isabelle’s pad.

“We think it might be Hank Jellicoe,” Nikki said. She went on to explain what Maggie had told them and about Isabelle seeing the man she was drawing at Annie’s new farmhouse. “Where did you see him, Alexis?”

“Are you kidding me? No, I guess you aren’t. I was backing out of my driveway and there was this car parked at the curb. Just as I was about to cut the wheel, this guy started to roll and I had to slam on my brakes. I rolled down my window and let him have it. He got out of his car, and before you can ask me, it was black, either a Toyota of some kind or a Honda. He apologized profusely, saying he meant to put the gear in reverse. Yada yada yada. He said he was sorry for upsetting me, and he could tell I was upset. And I was. Damn, that’s him!”

Then they were all babbling at once as Isabelle added a few more strokes with her charcoal pen. She eyed it for a moment, then ripped the sheet off the pad and stuck it to the refrigerator with two magnets. The group moved backward to study the sketch from all angles.

“It doesn’t look anything like Hank Jellicoe,” Nikki said.

“That’s the beauty of it. That tells us the plastic surgery was a success,” Bert said. “I would know that son of a bitch in a dark room, and this sure as hell doesn’t look like him. That’s how he’s able to move about out in the open with no one having a clue as to who he is. If he had the balls, excuse me, ladies, to step into Isabelle and Alexis’s world, he sure as hell must feel pretty confident.”

Charles moved over to the kitchen door and opened it. The dogs barreled through, their hearing picking up the men tramping through the woods beyond the fence just as Ted and Espinosa arrived, followed by Annie and Myra ten minutes later.

Another long explanation followed for the benefit of the newcomers. They all stared at the sketch tacked to the refrigerator. All agreed that it did not resemble Hank Jellicoe in any way.

“It’s him, I’m telling you, that’s Jellicoe,” Maggie said adamantly.

“No one hates that bastard more than I do,” Ted said. “Maggie’s instincts are always spot on, so if she says it’s him, then it’s him.”

“Suck-up,” Jack hissed.

“Screw you, Jack. Look at his ears. I always thought that for a guy he had weird ears; they were too small for the size of his head. Did they seem out of proportion to you, Isabelle?”

“Not when I was looking at him face-to-face. It didn’t register. But I guess so, because they’re smaller on the picture. It registered in my subconscious, and it came out in the drawing. Let’s all agree that this is indeed Hank Jellicoe.”

Harry slapped at the refrigerator so hard it moved. “Why are we standing here?”

“Because we need to have a plan,” Jack said. “The guy looks like he could be anyone’s neighbor. He could be living anywhere. How do you suggest we find him, Harry?”

“Let’s concentrate on finding Dr. Valentine. Charles, that is your area of expertise. People just do not drop off the face of the earth unless they have unlimited monetary resources like Jellicoe.”

“I think I can handle it if you all take care of the dinner preparations.”

There was a wild flurry of activity as everyone moved to do Charles’s bidding.

Annie poked Myra on the arm. “I think we might be coming into the home stretch, Myra.”

“I think you might be right, Annie.”

Chapter 23

E
ven though there was chaos in Myra’s kitchen as the Sisters bustled about, and the guys were talking above a comfortable decibel level, they could all hear Murphy’s joyous bark as Kathryn roared through the gate and parked. Murphy bolted out of the car and raced to where the other dogs were running up and down along the fence even before she could open the driver’s side door to let herself out.

Bert held the door open, looked down at Kathryn’s face to judge her mood. She smiled, and his world turned bright. He kissed her lightly and put his arm around her shoulder. “Just in time for dinner,” he said.

“Good! I’m starved,” Kathryn said, “but right now I’m more thirsty than I am hungry.” She headed for the refrigerator for a cold bottle of water. She blinked at Isabelle’s sketch, then frowned. “Hey, I just saw this guy not an hour ago at the depot when I signed out. Who is he? How come you have his picture here?”

Bert grabbed Kathryn’s shoulders and whirled her about. “You saw that guy! That’s Hank Jellicoe.”

“No, it wasn’t Jellicoe. I’d know that SOB anywhere. The guy I saw was just some guy checking on a load that was an hour late. I heard him telling the manager he was expecting eighteen hundred weed whackers. He was pretty upset when the manager told him there was no paperwork on file. The guy was really upset and threatening to sue, the whole nine yards. I was signing out, and that’s how I heard what was going on. No way, that was not Hank Jellicoe, but the guy at the depot sure does look like this sketch. You do this, Isabelle?” Isabelle nodded.

Then they were all talking at once, with Kathryn refusing to believe she’d literally been eyeball-to-eyeball with Hank Jellicoe and didn’t even know it. Eventually, when Maggie repeated her story again, she came around to agreeing with the others. “Now, all we have to do is find out where that son of a bitch lives and go after him.”

“Easier said than done. He’s coming to us. One by one,” Nikki said. “He’s taunting us like a little kid. You know that game we all used to play when we were kids, catch me if you can. He thinks he’s giving us an edge because we’d never catch him otherwise. It’s a game to him now.”

Charles appeared in the kitchen doorway just as Annie announced that the steaks were done. A bit of confusion ensued as everyone grabbed something and settled it on the dining-room table. Myra poured ice tea while Harry dropped twice-baked potatoes on each plate. Bert handed the huge salad bowl to Ted, who started to pass it around the table.

Yoko looked around the table, and said, “Screw your rule of not talking business at the table, Charles. Either we talk business or Harry and I are leaving.” Harry smiled from ear to ear as his little lotus flower showed off her muscle.

“Fine,” was all that Charles said by way of agreement or disagreement.

“How’s that grilled tofu, Harry?” Jack asked.

“Just fine, Jack. How’s that bloody meat some poor animal gave up his life for? Not to mention that with my exceptional hearing, I can hear your arteries fluttering.”

“Smart-ass.” Jack dug into his twice-baked potato.

Charles looked around the table. “I think it’s safe to say Mr. Jellicoe has some sort of surveillance at each of your homes. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head out to speak to Avery and see who we can put on this immediately.”

“It’s dark out there, dear, be careful,” Myra said.

“Always, Myra. Always. Seven dogs watching my back is about as good as it gets, don’t you think?”

Myra shrugged.

“I think we should discuss Jellicoe’s wife and daughter now,” Nikki said. “How are we going to handle that?”

“Very carefully, dear,” Myra said. “We can’t in any way jeopardize their safety.”

“Understood, Myra. I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. How about this? We have Kathryn head out to Oklahoma in her rig. We all split up and meet there. Guys, what do you think?”

The guys gawked at her. As one they all thought the same thing—they were actually being asked for their opinion.

Bert was the first to respond. “Sounds perfect to me. I can ride with Kathryn if she’ll have me. I’ve been dying to do a road trip.” Kathryn grinned from ear to ear. Bert wanted to puff out his chest and roar. One look at Jack told him he was overdoing the whole deal.

“You’re going to love it, Bert. Kathryn took me along once. It is one of my most memorable experiences,” Myra said.

“This is just my opinion, but why should everyone make the trip? Won’t that throw up all kinds of red flags? Remember now, we don’t want this to come back to Maggie or her source in any way,” Ted said. Espinosa seconded Ted’s assessment.

“My original thought was Jellicoe would somehow follow us, and we could take him out before we reached the wife. But if you guys think that won’t work, I’m open to any and all suggestions. We need to plan this out and not go off on any wild tangents. We have time on our side, and we’re not kicking the clock,” Nikki said. The others agreed.

“I think we need to wait to see what Avery Snowden and his boys come up with before we make any concrete decisions. Bert and I have time before things start popping at the
dojo.
Harry’s Master won’t be arriving to start his training for three weeks. So, that’s our window. Also, remember, the president gave Span and Yantzy thirty days to grab Jellicoe or she would replace them. They’re a good week into their deadline,” Jack said.

Bert shared his last conversation concerning Yantzy with the others. “The feebs don’t have a clue, trust me. When those thirty days are up, those two are history, and you can take that to the bank. This town will go nuts wondering what the hell they did wrong.”

“Are we going to try to flush Jellicoe out in some way by using his wife and daughter as bait? If that’s the case, I don’t like it. It makes me nervous,” Annie said. “The safety of the wife and daughter has to be our primary concern.”

“But, Annie. Once we catch Jellicoe, the wife and daughter are safe. They won’t have to stay in the Witness Protection Program any longer. Unless they want to, and they very well might, because it’s a way of life now for them. The other question is, if we do catch Jellicoe, maybe the marshals won’t want to use their manpower to watch over them, and they’ll cut them loose on their own,” Myra said.

“That’s why we have to be so careful,” Nikki said. “So, let’s clear up this mess,” she said, waving her hands about, “and reconvene.”

They were whirling dervishes, even the guys, as they moved in sync to clear up after dinner.

“Eleven minutes and the dishwasher is on! Best time yet,” Ted chortled happily. He winked at Maggie.

Maggie shot Ted a look of pure venom. Didn’t she just dump him? Didn’t she just return his ring? Why was he so damn happy? She almost asked him but changed her mind. Obviously, he was happy with the way things were going.
He’s happy, and I’m miserable. What’s wrong with this picture?
she wondered.

Obviously, Ted thought nothing was wrong because he continued to babble nonstop to anyone who was listening to him, which meant the other guys.

Shrill barks and the sound of men and dogs heading for the back door drowned out all the conversation. Charles opened the door, and the dogs bounded through and raced through the house as Charles and Avery Snowden and six of his men filled the kitchen. In their hands they held equipment that looked like it belonged on an intergalactic space vessel. “There’s no way to tell how long this has been in the woods. Long story short, Jellicoe has a setup where he can monitor our comings and goings. Avery dispatched two teams to check out your homes. For now we think our best course of action is to stay here, especially the girls. What do you want to do, Maggie? If you decide to leave, can you temporarily stay at the paper or a hotel?” Charles asked.

“A hotel, dear, if you feel you can’t be away from the paper. Just bill the
Post,”
Annie said.

“I’ll do that.” The other girls agreed to stay at the farm, even Yoko. The guys said they could handle anything that might come their way. And then they all settled down to strategize.

Every light in the house at 911 Sherman Way in Manassas was on, lighting up the dark night. Hank Jellicoe, a.k.a. professor Simon Jordan, prowled the premises like a caged lion. On one hand he was delighted that his three appearances with the vigilantes had gone off with no one the wiser. He galloped up the steps into his computer lair and within a nanosecond saw that the video surveillance monitor that kept track of the comings and goings at Pinewood was nothing but white snow accompanied by the scratchy sound of static. “You’re one up, Charlie,” Jellicoe said before he picked up a heavy paperweight and threw it right through the monitor. He knew that in the next few hours, all the monitors would look the same way. Thanks to good old Charlie Martin. He started to curse, once again making up new cusswords to add to his already burgeoning cursing vocabulary.

How long before the three women he’d shown himself to would put it together? He couldn’t come up with a time. He started to prowl again, but this time he fired up a cigar. He paced up and down the second-floor hallway, his booted feet coming down harder and harder on the plank floor until he was practically whizzing up and down the hall, the fat cigar clenched between his teeth, the smoke billowing upward.

“Think!” he said to the empty hallway. “If this were Afghanistan, and this were happening there, what would you do? What did you do in Iraq when this happened?”