Sneaking Suspicions (The Tharon Trace Mysteries Book 1) (22 page)

CHAPTER 39

“Just call that number,” the First Lady cooed as she perched on the edge of Vice President Larkin’s desk, her thigh nudging his arm.  She covered his hand and fingered the inside of his wrist with a delicate touch.

Larkin’s eyes smoldered, his pulse quickened.

“Martin should have been in charge of the Fort Wayne contingent to begin with.  I’ve found his dedication and discretion valuable in the past.”

Larkin flinched at the flash of fire in her eyes. “Burt Payne came highly recommended by my strongest political ally in my congressional district.  I had no idea he and his brother could bungle things so badly.”

She hopped down and cupped her hand on the side of his face before trailing her fingertips along his jaw and down to his chin.  The nail of her index finger lingered in the cleft of his chin.  “Perhaps you can learn from this and not counter my wishes in the future.”

Warmth flooded his face as he marveled at how he could be equally frightened and excited at the same time by this woman who belonged to someone else.  Their shared hunger for power fueled his passion for her.  “It will never happen again.”

“I want the girl and her mother alive and unharmed.  Be clear that the strike team knows that.” She lifted her finger from his chin to her lips and pressed a kiss to it before transferring a smudge of dusky lipstick to the corner of Larkin’s mouth.  “Tell Martin to forget the hostage ruse.  We will invade from two fronts.  That will draw their pathetic militia away and the women will be unprotected at the house.”

Larkin licked his lips and his hungry eyes followed her swaying hips to the door, the dusky lavender silk of her full skirt flowed with her movement, sending ripples of desire through him.

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob and turned to flash him a seductive smile. “Oh, and tell Martin not to leave any witnesses alive this time.”  She gave him a playful wave.

His face flushed with the heat of his desire for her.  He could taste the power pulsing through his veins.  Soon he’d have the Presidency and if he played his cards right she’d continue on as his own First Lady.

With his eyes closed he fingered the edge of the piece of paper she’d given him.  Images played in his mind of her on his arm welcoming heads of state to White House—his White House.  The razor sharp edge of the paper sliced into the soft flesh of his finger and brought him back to reality.

A drop of blood dripped onto the name of Martin Philips and began to soak into the paper, spreading to the phone number.  Larkin gasped and snatched the silk handkerchief from his suit coat pocket to blot up the blood.  Beads of sweat broke out on his upper lip as he struggled to read the ink before it blurred.  He wrote down the number on another piece of paper and underlined the numbers he was uncertain of.  He dared not let Mrs. Hamron know he might have lost the number.

He pulled out his cell phone and started calling different number combinations.  After four wrong numbers, a surly voice answered. “Who is this?”

“I’m trying to reach Martin,” Larkin sputtered.  “Is that you?”

Marty hedged. “That depends on who’s asking and what you want.”

The Vice President swiped his hand over his brow, not realizing he left a smudge of blood in the center of his forehead.  “A lovely and powerful friend gave me your number.  She has a high regard for you to provide the desired results.”

With a chuckle, Marty said, “I can think of several lovely ladies of that opinion, but I don’t imagine you want the same results they did.”

Larkin reached his exasperation limit.  “Confound it man!  Are you Martin Philips or not?  I am the Vice President of the United States and I have no time for dithering.”

Marty paused before saying, “I’m your man.  What do you need?”

“There has been a change of plans.  No hostages will be taken.  Two incursions will be made into the state on Thanksgiving Day.  Our sources indicate the home of the girl will be unprotected.  You are to secure the girl and her mother, alive and unharmed.  You are to leave no witnesses.”

“Am I to have any help?”

“A tactical strike team will rendezvous with you that morning with an air cruiser.  You will be in charge of the operation and the responsibility of success or failure will reside with you and the entire team.  We expect you to succeed or die trying.  ”

Marty’s voice held no humor. “I understand.”

CHAPTER 40

November 20, 2056

Fatigue plagued Lista Trace Monday morning.  She was still tired from the Saturday wedding of Dana Donovan to Sheriff Simon Ellis.  As much as the wedding contrasted the stress of her daughter’s abduction and the loss of her baby the previous week, she had to admit, it took a lot out of her.  She managed to go to church on Sunday—how could she not express gratitude for her daughter’s safe return—but by the evening she was pretty well spent.

When Angela Harris spoke to her at church about Helm spending the next few days with Tharon, she was grateful for the opportunity to do something for the young boy who had calmed Tharon and helped her through the worst moments of their ordeal.

Lista’s feelings of guilt weighed on her for trying to keep Tharon and the boys apart.  If she hadn’t interfered, Tharon and the boys wouldn’t have been in the woods and witnessed the murder.  They wouldn’t have been abducted.  She still had her concerns about the bond between Tharon, Helm Harris and Kaid Walker.  Perhaps it wasn’t much of an issue yet.  Tharon was only twelve, but as they matured, their interest in Tharon was bound to mature as well.  If that happened, her husband Tom would have to deal with it.  Lista’s meddling days were over.

She smiled at Tharon’s excitement to spend the day with Helm.  She’d spent the night before picking out books to read and games to play.  She’d organized the window seat at the front of the living room with extra pillows and even a couple of throws in case they got cold.

The window seat wasn’t a bay window, since it didn’t jut out onto the porch.  Massive white book cases framed the front window with a storage bench tucked between them.  The bench was covered with a thick cushion and several pillows.  It was Tharon’s favorite place to play and read.

The plaid cushion that covered the bench, coordinated perfectly with the red and yellow floral colors of the sofa and accent chair.  She was sitting on the window seat watching for an hour before Helm arrived with his parents, Matt and Angela.  “He’s here!”

Tom tromped in through the back door stomping his feet to shake off the morning frost and any other debris from the farmyard.  He risked Lista’s wrath by keeping his shoes on as he strode to the front room to talk to Matt Harris before he left.

Tom ignored Lista’s frown at his feet and slipped his left arm around her shoulder as he thrust out his right hand and shook Matt’s hand firmly.  “Did Simon give you a call last night?”

Matt’s face was grave.  “Yes.  Do you think something is imminent or are these just precautionary measures?”

“I was under the impression things might progress quicker than we thought.  He asked me to be one of his lieutenants, what about you?”

Matt nodded. “Yeah, me too.  It sounded like his wife recommended us.”

“Do you want to ride with me to the meeting this evening?” Tom asked.

Matt looked to Lista who clung to Tom while Angela held onto Matt.  “Lista, I know this is a lot to ask, but can Helm spend the rest of the day here?  Angela will pick him up after she closes the store.”

Lista said quietly, “Of course.  He’s always welcome here.”

Tom smiled at her change of heart and covered her hand with his.  He turned to Matt. “I’ll pick you up so Angela will have your car.  I’ll see if Chuck and Doc want to come with us.  Can you think of anyone else we should ask?”

“Well, there’s Royce Edwards. I doubt he’ll come, but he’d probably be offended if he isn’t asked.”

“Daddy?” Tom looked down at the Tharon who stood listening with rapt attention as she gripped Helm’s hand.  “Is war starting?”

Tom touched her face.  “I don’t want you two to worry about it.  I think fighting will come sooner than we expected, but we’re going to make sure all of you are safe.”

Tharon’s face was filled with worry. “But who will make sure you’re safe?”

He patted her head. “Helm’s dad and I are going to watch out for each other to make sure we both make it home, just like you, Helm and Kaid watched out for each other.”

The school bus pulled into the semicircle drive and stopped behind the Harris’s car.  Chuck Miller hopped off the bottom step of the bus and turned to hold his wife Ginger’s hand as she tenuously felt her way down the steps in her white stiletto boots, tight white slacks, and puffy white jacket with speckled fur trim.

Tom smiled as he watched their petite, bubbly, forty-something neighbor work her way up the steps.  He held the door open for Chuck and Ginger as they made their way up the front porch steps.

Ginger wobbled on each step in her six inch heels, clinging to the rail with one hand and Chuck’s arm with the other.

She clicked her heels across the porch and burst into the foyer, lighting it up with her radiant smile. “We thought we’d see if you want Helm and Tharon to go to school.  Chuck and I are running the route together and he’s packin’ heat.” She lifted Chuck’s jacket hem to reveal a holster and gun strapped to his belt.  Her throaty chuckle boomed in the quiet house.  “And I’m packing my own surprise.” She brushed her blond hair back over her shoulder as she opened her purse and proudly displayed a large red brick.

Chuck swung a loving arm around his bubbly blond wife. “We got a call from the state Commissioner of Education that there’s been a terror threat targeting school buses and schools.  With all you folks went through recently, we just wanted you to be reassured about the children’s safety.  We will protect them.”  His eyes twinkled when he grinned at Tharon and Helm.  “We’re glad you two and Kaid got home safe.”

Lista and Angela exchanged the same panicked look.  Lista said, “I’m sure they would be safe with you both, but we still want to keep them close this week.  I’m sure you understand after everything that happened we want to anchor them to our apron strings just a bit longer.”

Ginger’s throaty chuckle warmed the foyer. “Oh, honey, of course I understand.  I only thought with you being pregnant we might help you get a little rest.  But that’s fine if you want the children close by, I understand.”

Lista’s countenance fell.  She sank into Tom’s side.

Tharon voice was filled with sadness when she said, “Mommy’s baby died.”

Ginger’s smile froze.  She stared at Tharon as her words sunk in.  Her lips quivered and tears dripped down from her rapidly blinking eyes.  As her tears streamed down her cheeks they melted her mascara and her smile.  “Oh, Lista, I am so sorry.”

Lista found herself comforting her distraught neighbor.  She drew Ginger into her arms and patted her back.  “It’s all right, Ginger.  I’m going to be fine.  But you can see why I want the children around me today.”

Sobbing, now, Ginger nodded her head, unable to form coherent speech.  She broke from Lista’s arms and foraged inside her massive purse until she extracted a tissue from the inner folds of the bag.  She blotted up her running mascara. Between sobs she repeated, “I’m—so—sorry!”

“Thank you,” Lista said as she gave Tom an imploring look.

Tom turned his attention to Chuck. “We’ve got a meeting for the militia tonight.  Would you like to go with Matt and me?”

Chuck raised an eyebrow. “Absolutely.  What time?”

“I plan to leave at five.”

Chuck shook his hand again. “I’ll be here.  Thanks for letting me know.”

After exchanging goodbyes, Chuck had to practically carry Ginger down the steps.  Angela and Matt hurried to pull their car around the semi circle drive and get out of the way of the bus, leaving Tom with his arm around Lista, and Tharon holding Helm’s hand.

Tom led Lista to her chair and covered her knees with a knitted afghan. “You rest and relax while I enlist those two hooky players to help me make pancakes.”  He kissed the top of her head.

Lista eased back and sighed. “That would be lovely.”

CHAPTER 41

Max thumbed through reports stacked on Simon’s desk.  Penni dropped another one on top eliciting a grumble, “What is going on?  Most of these deal with trespassers and break-ins.  Is there usually this much activity on the weekend?”

“No.  I talked to the Sheriff’s departments in the northern counties and they say there’s been a significant increase in traffic and incidents along I-80.  Most of it clustered around I-65 and I-69.  And get this; almost every county has reported dogs have been killed in rural areas.”

Max furrowed his brow. “Why kill the dogs?  This doesn’t make any sense.”

Simon entered his office, his arm looped around Dana’s waist.  “It makes sense if reconnaissance is eliminating nature’s security alarms.”

Penni frowned. “You two are supposed to be on your honeymoon.  We can handle this.  Now scoot.  Go bask in your wedded bliss.”

“I promise you, Penni, there’s nothing I’d like more.”  He shut the door behind him.  “I met with the governor early yesterday morning.  It looks like Indiana will secede from the Union along with at least twenty-three other states.  We’re still not sure which way Ohio is going to go.  And there may be cities that stay with Hamron while the rest of the state goes with us.”

Max’s mouth dropped open.  “I’d heard talk of it but had no idea we were this close yet.”

Simon still draped his arm around Dana’s waist.  “The media censors and monitors have blocked reporting from the Federal government.  They don’t want the general public to know about some congressional bills in the works to give the President wide powers to seize private property and control of businesses during times of war or military occupation.  There’s another one to eliminate term limits on the President, but I think the one that is drawing the greatest contention is the bill requiring citizens to surrender all weapons.  If that goes through it will be impossible to prevent military occupation by the government.”

Simon’s clenched his jaw as his gaze traveled from Max to Penni and finally rested on Dana.  “I’m going to need help from all of you.  Penni, please get me a list of the names and numbers of all the mayors, police chiefs, township commissioners and school principals for Whitley County.”

He turned his attention back to Max. “I’ve been tasked with leading the militia regiment from Whitley County, so I hope you feel comfortable in that chair, Max; because I’m going to need an interim Sheriff if fighting breaks out.”

Max shook his head and pointed at Dana. “You’ve got your arm around your interim Sheriff.  If fighting breaks out, I’ll be there with you.”

Simon locked eyes with Dana and seemed to be considering the merit of Max’s suggestion.  He raised an eyebrow to his bride. “That’s not a bad idea.  But Max, I still want you here to help her.”

Dana shook her head and pressed her palm against her husband’s chest. “I’ll be going with you, too.”

“No, Sweetheart.” Simon touched her face. “I don’t know about the other counties, but we won’t be taking any women of child bearing age.  You ladies are too important to rebuilding the population.  Besides, if you were there, I’d be too distracted and worried about you to do my job.”  His gentle kiss stilled any more protests on her part.

“What can I do now to help you?” She rested her hands on her hips to let him know she meant business.

Simon shook his head. “Since you refuse to follow doctor’s orders and rest, it would help if you mark on a map all the complaints of trespassers and killed dogs.”  He rummaged in the file cabinet and pulled out a map.  “I think for now, we’ll go old school and use a map with pins in it.  I question how secure our computers are.”

She started to leave the room but Simon grabbed her hand and pulled her back into his arms.  He ignored Max and Penni as he told Dana, “This is just to remind you that even though we’re back to work, the honeymoon is far from over.”  He kissed her with a gentle passion that made her lift one foot off the floor.

Max and Penni grinned at each other.

After Penni and Dana left the room, Max got up to turn the Sheriff reins back over to Simon.  Max said, “So, what was the lead you followed up in Indy?”

Simon settled back behind his desk.  “Wil Silar was an undercover cop.  He’d been given a fake criminal record so he could infiltrate the cell run by Burt Payne.  I guess cell is about the best description for it.  Did you hear what Burt said at the hospital?  The plan was in motion for ten years.  That was before Hamron even hinted an interest in politics.  Is he behind all of this or is there a bigger machine pulling the strings?  Who knows how many more units there are out there hidden in plain sight?  For all we know, if it comes to an armed conflict, we might have some of our own turn their guns on us.”

The thought of such betrayal sickened Max.  “So why did they kill Silar?”

“There have been credible reports of plans for the government to invade Indiana.  Silar was the source of those reports.  Apparently the Payne Brothers were to signal other groups to initiate a widespread incident.  They planned to claim the secession movement was behind the incident.  That would open the door for the government to justify invading the state and establishing marshal law.  Silar was trying to find out what that plan was but he was discovered and murdered before he could report it.”

Simon frowned. “Of course, now we know they’d planned a mass abduction of school children.  Brandt was part of the network too.  Now our only leads to uncovering the rest of the network are to find either Marty Philips or whoever killed Brandt.”

Max let out a low whistle.  “There’s one other way, but it’s the worst option—we wait for them to strike.”

“Regardless of what else we’re doing, we’ve got to place top priority on assembling our militia and making sure our schools are secure and their bus drivers are trained and ready.”

***

Penni gave Simon the list of phone numbers he requested and then she split the northern counties up with Dana.  Together they contacted the other sheriff departments and pegged each incident on a regional map that was tacked to a large corkboard. They used blue pins for the trespassers, yellow for the break-ins and red for the killed dogs.

When they finished the two women stepped back and stared at the map with their mouths open.

The blue and yellow pins were scattered in a haphazard fashion all over the region.  They tended to cluster around the more affluent areas.  The red pins formed two lines that followed rural roads.  One stretched from near Gary to Indianapolis.  The other skirted the back roads from south central Michigan to Indianapolis—it snaked through the center of Whitley County.

Penni let out a low whistle and said, “I think you’d better go get your husband.”