Chapter 42
Thanks to Rudolph Leitner, Jamie's flight was over an hour late getting into Kansas City, but since he'd told Jim Brauer not to worry about meeting him at the airport, he just picked up his luggage and his rental – he'd chosen a Chrysler Sebring, which was sporty, but not so sporty that it begged local law enforcement to pull him over – and drove to the FCA office in the Federal Building. When he walked in, the secretary on the front desk, a middle-aged woman who mothered all her young agents, smiled and said, "Hello, Jamie. Glad you got here safely. Lee called with the details."
"Hello, Madeline. Yeah, it was … interesting."
The KC section chief, Frank Duffy, came out of his office, followed by Jim Brauer. When the previous section chief had retired five years before, Lee had recommended Duffy for the job; the promotion and increased pay had been powerful incentive for Duffy and his wife, whose children were all grown, to leave the D.C. area for the Midwest. Jamie had known Frank for over ten years and knew that he would be a good man to work for. They shook hands and Duffy said, "Scarecrow briefed us, Jim. Good work."
"Thanks, Frank. Right place at the right time, that's all."
"I think there was a bit more to it than that. As I heard it, the unwilling female accomplice confided in you, even though she'd never seen you before."
"Yeah, Scarecrow junior," Brauer said. "Who else do we know – besides the Scarecrow, of course - who could get on a boring flight from DC and end up nabbing a terrorist we've been hunting for the last five years?"
"Some people just have the touch, Brewski," Jamie said as they shook hands. They weren't close friends, but they liked and respected each other as colleagues, and Jamie knew that Brauer's shoes in the KC office were going to be hard to fill. Sometime in the mists of the past, someone had worked out that Brauer's last name meant 'brewer' in German, so he'd been nicknamed "Brewski". "How's Nancy liking her new job in Seattle?"
"Loves it, can't wait for me to get out there. It pays well enough that I can afford to freelance while I build up my reputation out there. She's even contacted a couple of gallery owners and shown them some of my work; she says they seemed open to the idea of hanging some of my pieces, just on commission, you know."
"Great! You've certainly got the talent to make it in the art photography world, Jim; I'm glad you're getting to follow your dream."
"Yeah. I'm forty years old, J.K., and Nance is almost thirty-five. She says her biological clock is ticking, but she doesn't want to bring a baby into the world only to have to tell him -or her- why Daddy didn't come home some night."
"I hear you."
"Scarecrow said you rescued a damsel in distress last week and fell for her like a ton of bricks."
"Yeah, that's about the size of it."
"You got pictures?"
"I'm a photographer, Brewski. Of course, I've got pictures. I'd like to take a couple of days at the end of the week and go out to Alliance, Nebraska, to see her family, too. She offered to see if they could meet me in Lincoln or Omaha, but I told her I'd make the drive."
"Follow Brauer around for a few days just to learn your way around the area and I can cut you loose," Duffy said. "Thursday, Friday at the latest."
"That sounds good, Frank."
Exactly one week after Abby had run into his arms at that park in Arlington, he called her to tell her that he was heading to Alliance at daybreak the next day.
"Mom and Dad are so excited, Jamie. They're planning a big shindig at the lodge hall for Saturday night and the whole family is coming. They've even hired a polka band, and my cousin Jenny, who runs a dance and gymnastics studio in Sidney called Czechs and Balances – yeah, bad pun, but what can I say - says she'll come early and teach you how to polka."
At five o'clock on Thursday morning, Jamie checked out of his hotel and started the long trip to Alliance. Dressed in his most comfortable pair of jeans, a t-shirt that read "Everything's up to date in Kansas City" that he'd found at the same mall where he'd bought a Kansas City Royals ball cap, and a pair of western boots that, although new, were incredibly comfortable, he loaded his luggage and his cameras into the rental and headed for Interstate 29 northbound.
About eight, he drove through a small section of southwestern Iowa and then left the interstate to cross the Missouri River into Nebraska. He stopped in Nebraska City for breakfast, filled up his travel mug, and headed west for Lincoln and Interstate 80. He got to the capital city about 9:30, was astounded at how little traffic there was, and said, "Oh, yeah. I could definitely get used to this."
The next stop, at eleven o'clock, was at a truck stop just outside Grand Island. He refueled the truck, bought lunch, and once he'd finished his burger and fries, went out to the rental to call the Kozal family home in Alliance. He dialed the number and waited for it to ring.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Kozal? This is Jamie King. How are you?"
"I'm just fine, Jamie. How are you? Where are you?"
"Grand Island, ma'am."
"Already?"
"Yes, ma'am. I got out of KC at five this morning to beat the heat and the traffic, and I made good time coming out here. I've had lunch and refueled, so I'm hoping to be with you in about five hours."
"That sounds wonderful! I'll pass the word. We won't all descend on you at once, not when you've been driving all day, but the family would like to meet you, so we're planning a little get-together at the lodge hall here in town Saturday night. Nobody has a house big enough for all of us, you see."
"Yes, Abby told me. I'm supposed to get polka lessons from her cousin Jenny, she said. It sounds like a lot of fun, Mrs. Kozal, although you're going to a lot of trouble."
"We don't think so; we're Czechs, Jamie, and we love parties. And please, call me Rosalyn. After all, you're letting us call you Jamie, and from that Abby says, that's not something just anyone gets to do."
"Rosalyn, then. I need to get on the road again, but I'll see you this afternoon."
"Have a safe trip. Oh, what are you driving?" she asked casually… too casually.
"A silver Chrysler Sebring with Kansas tags."
"We'll be on the lookout for you, then."
Jamie cut the connection and said, "So now there's a BOLO on me? Just what do your brothers and their friends in the county sheriff's department have up their sleeves, Princess? Well, I've heard all the pranks and I'm fully ready to spike their guns."
Jamie followed the Platte River, the "Nebraska Seacoast", and then the North Platte River all the way to Northport, where he turned north toward Alliance, thirty-four miles away. His map gave him a fair idea of when he'd cross into Box Butte County, so he was watching for the sign that marked the county line. Sure enough, just inside the county line there was a county sheriff's vehicle, a small brown SUV, waiting for him. Jamie pulled over right in front of it, got out, and started walking toward the deputy, who had also exited his vehicle.
"James King," Jamie said, "but then you know that, don't you, deputy? Who put you up to this, Larry or Dan?"
"Oh, Larry, for sure. Butch Ronne, Agent King. It's really Leonard, but nobody calls me that. Welcome to Box Butte County."
They shook hands and Butch said, "What gave us away?"
"Rosalyn warned me. First, she asked me what I was driving, and then she said, 'we'll be on the lookout for you'. First time I've ever had a BOLO out on me. And call me Jim, or Jamie. Did you graduate with Larry?"
"Graduated with him, played Bulldog football with him, pestered his sister with him…."
"I get the picture. So, do I get a police escort to Chez Kozal?"
"You bet. Follow me."
Jamie followed Butch to a modest two-story prairie -style home on Cheyenne Street. It was clear that Butch had used his radio to good effect, because when they pulled up to the curb and stopped, there were already at least a dozen people sitting on the porch steps or playing in the yard. Jamie got out of the car and started up the driveway toward the house, but was quickly met by two young boys.
"Deputy Ronne called an' told us were coming," the younger one, Sammy, said. "Larry told him to pull you over and write you a fake ticket, but you didn't give him a chance."
"Well, I am a federal agent," Jamie said. "I'm supposed to be one step ahead of the other guys. Besides, your mom warned me."
"She did? Aw, that takes all the fun out of it," Bobby said.
"I appreciate it, though. Hello, boys. I'm Jamie. You're Bob, and you're Sam."
"How'd you know?" Sammy asked.
"Because he's not stupid, worm brain," Bob said in disgust. "They don't hire people to be federal agents if they're stupid."
In an instant, Jamie was back in 1985, listening to Phillip call him 'worm brain'. He leveled a look at Bob and said, "You know, Robert, when I was Sam's age and my brother Phillip was your age, he called me worm brain all the time, no matter how many times my mother told him to stop. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't repeat history, all right?"
"Yes, sir. Sorry, Sammy. Is your brother a federal agent too?"
"No, he works at the Thornton Foundation where Abby is doing her internship. He writes policy papers."
"Boring…." Bobby said. "Do you have a gun and a badge?"
"What do you think?"
"Can I see them?"
"Eventually. Right now, I want to go say hello to your parents."
"Larry and Kathy are here too; Dan and Beth can't come up until tomorrow because they have to work."
"In Scottsbluff, yes, Abby told me. Who are all these other people?"
"Cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbors… Everybody wants to see you on account of we've never had a real live federal agent in our town before."
"Or if you did, you didn't know it," Jamie corrected.
Ray and Rosalyn Kozal were in their mid-forties; they met Jamie halfway up the driveway and welcomed him with a handshake -Ray – and a hug – Rosalyn. "We're so glad you could come out and see us," Rosalyn said. "We really would have met you somewhere closer, though."
"But then I wouldn't have had a chance to see Carhenge," Jamie said. "It was a good trip, and this is a lovely little town."
"We like it. We're putting you in Abby's room."
"That sounds great."