Thanks for pointing the hangar thing out—I didn't catch it (actually, I never even realized there was a spelling difference!) and it's one of those things that spell check doesn't catch. I think I have them all fixed now—than goodness for find and replace :)
Thanks for the great responses from all of you! I'm so glad you're enjoying it, and it's really encouraging to me! Now—on with the show….
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CHAPTER 9Vin was stepping from his jeep just as Josiah and Nathan pulled into an empty space a few cars down in the ATF parking garage late that evening. He had spent the day in Purgatorio talking to contacts and trying to find anything he could about Carnelli's mysterious supplier, the explosion at the airport, or their missing agent.
He'd had no luck.
Josiah and Nathan had taken another trip to Fieldman Contracting while JD had again talked to the airport personnel and Buck had accompanied Chris to a meeting with Dawson and Lewis, hoping to keep the blond from committing murder.
Vin did not envy Buck his job.
He leaned back against the tailgate of the jeep and waited a moment for the others to catch up. "Find anything?" he asked, falling in step with them as they headed for the elevator.
Josiah shook his head. "Nope. We talked to several people at that construction company from the janitor up to the chairman of the board, and got the same story as yesterday. No one heard anything."
"Any chance they're covering something up?"
"If they are, then they're doing one h**l of a job," Nathan spoke up. "What about you? Did you learn anything?"
Vin shook his head as he pushed the elevator button. "Nothing. Either this guy's real good at hiding his trail, or he's got everybody down there spooked."
Josiah sighed, stepped onto the carriage when it arrived, and held the door back for his companions. "Then let's go see if the others have had better luck."
They entered the bullpen a few minutes later to find JD hard at work on the computer and Buck leaning against Vin's desk behind him with his arms crossed, staring intently at the screen over the boy's shoulder. Chris was nowhere to be seen.
"Buck," Vin greeted with a nod as he passed the duo heading for his desk. He draped his jacket across the back of his chair and moved up to sit on the corner of JD's desk facing the larger man. "How'd it go?"
Buck grimaced and shook his head in distaste. "About as well as you'd expect. Lewis was being his usual charming self, and Chris was being Chris. Me and Wade had us a time keeping them two apart." He shifted his stance and crossed one booted foot over the other. "Lewis is botching the investigation—no news there. I tell ya, that man couldn't find his a** if someone took his hands and put them there!"
"What about Dawson's people? What have they come up with?" Josiah asked as he took his seat at his own workspace.
"Not much," Buck answered with a shrug. "They identified some of the weapons—this was definitely our meet—and verified that a gas fire is definitely what started it all. No more bodies've been found, though."
"So we're still at square one, then" Nathan sighed as he hung his jacket neatly on the rack behind the door and walked to his desk.
"I guess that means you guys didn't have much luck today, either, then." Buck observed.
"Nope," Nathan shook his head as he pulled his chair out and sat down heavily, turning so that he faced the other agent. "The people at Fieldman's confirmed that they had a shipment that night, but no one who was there noticed anything out of the ordinary until after the explosions."
"I got the same thing from the airport people. I'm guessing they've got someone paid off," JD spoke up, finally turning his attention to the conversation going on around him.
"I agree. Someone had to have noticed that shipment coming in," Josiah nodded sagely. He propped his feet up on his trashcan and absently twirled a pen through his fingers. "Whoever this supplier is, he had to have had someone looking the other way."
JD pushed his chair back from his keyboard and rolled his shoulders forward, trying to loosen the kinks in his neck. "I've spent all afternoon pulling up info on the staff on duty that night, but haven't come across anything out of the ordinary yet," he shook his head as he reached into a desk drawer for a package of fun-size Twix® candy bars he kept hidden there. With his attention no longer completely focused on the computer, he finally took notice of his stomach's loud complaints at missing lunch. He was starved! "I don't know if we're on the wrong trail, they haven't been paid yet, or they've got their tracks covered pretty well, but I'll keep looking. If it's there, I'll find it!" He frowned as he dumped only about twelve small candy pieces out onto his blotter. He hadn't realized his stash was getting that low—he'd have to remember to restock it soon. He unwrapped a bar and popped it into his mouth.
"We know ya will, kid," Vin patted his shoulder with a smirk before he deftly swiped a handful of the little chocolate bars from off the desk and quickly scooted out of JD's reach as the boy let out an indignant yelp and swiped at him. He unwrapped a bar and stuck it into his mouth as he resettled himself in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk, grinning cheekily at the angry young man.
"What about you, Vin? You find out anything?" Buck asked, silently laughing at the two. He took advantage of JD's distraction and reached over the boy's shoulder to grab his own handful of the candy before he too retreated to the safety of his own work area.
Vin shook his head as he bit into another of his pilfered chocolate bars. "If anyone down there knows anything, they're not talking."
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I still think this Fieldman's is still involved somehow," Nathan declared, ignoring the antics of the three.
Children—the whole lot of them! He sighed wearily to himself.
"But we've been over their accounts and everything. There's nothing there to go on," JD protested with a glare at the thieves. He stared morosely down at the two remaining bars, and his stomach rumbled grouchily.
He was still hungry, dang it!
"There was nothing we could see. But you have to admit, all those accounting errors seem mighty suspicious. And I just don't buy the inexperienced staff excuse," Nathan crossed his arms. "And why do they keep their accounts at that bank in Purgatorio, anyway? Yeah, they may have started out there when they first began the company, but they've been pretty successful lately. Why not move the accounts to a better bank, instead of one that keeps threatening to go under? I think we need to look at them a little more closely."
Josiah rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You do have a point, brother. Which is why I put in a call to the bank manager yesterday."
"What did he say?" JD asked as he stuck the wrappers into the now-empty bag and balled it up. He started to toss it into his wastebasket, but caught sight of his three-hole punch sitting beside his monitor and got an idea. He quickly grabbed the punch and emptied the contents into the bag before rolling it up once more. With an evil grin, he threw it at his roommate, scoring a direct hit on the side of the man's face, causing him to drop the chocolate bar that he was raising to his lips on the floor and showering the man with the little bits of confetti.
Buck looked up at him with a growl, but JD just sat back in his chair and intertwined his fingers behind his head with a triumphant smirk.
"He wasn't there. His secretary said he wouldn't be in that day, that I should try back Monday. Wouldn't tell me where he was, either. I tried his home number several times too. Always got the machine," Josiah continued, watching the by-play in amusement.
"Does look awful suspicious, don't it," Buck observed as he dusted himself off and bent down to pick the chocolate up off the floor. He popped it into his mouth and chewed it slowly with plenty of noises of pleasure, trying to get a rise out of the young man but failing.
Your time's a-coming, he glared at the kid.
Just try it, Old Man, JD grinned back.
Nathan cringed and almost gagged as he watched Buck eat the candy from the floor.
Chris's office door suddenly banged open, and they all looked up at their leader as he stopped in the doorway. He noticed the white bits of paper caught in Buck's hair as well as the look of promised revenge on his old friend's face and the dare gleaming in the young man's eyes, but chose to ignore it all.
If he didn't see it happen, then he wasn't cleaning it up.
"Just got a call from forensics about that body," he announced gruffly.
Fear filled the others at the news, and they glanced at each other uneasily. "And?" Vin asked quietly as he studied the troubled expression on the blond's face, dreading the answer but hoping for a miracle.
Chris ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh as he finally looked up to meet their eyes. "It wasn't him. They don't know who it was yet, but it definitely wasn't Ezra."
The tension in the room suddenly lightened and several 'Thank G**'s' and one 'I told you so!' punctuated the air as they all went limp with relief, the melancholy and sense of forebode rolling off their shoulders at the news.
When the noise died down, JD's voice rang out across the room in confusion as he asked the now-obvious next question. "So, if that wasn't Ez, then where is he?"
Chris's eyes narrowed and his face took on an expression of cool determination and not a little anger as he leaned against the door facing. "That," he said as he folded his arms across his chest, "is what I'd like to know."
* * * * * * *
Tony Vitalis shifted uneasily as he stood in front of his employer's desk, watching the man casually sort through the papers he had taken from the bank and from Banning's home office Friday night. He glanced out the window for a moment, studying the open fields, the tall pines beyond, and the mountain peaks rising in the distance—anything but the unreadable expression on Randolph's face.
Randolph had come to the small ranch house they used as the base for their illegal operations that afternoon after Sunday morning church services and lunch with one of his business partners to receive an update from Tony personally. He had not been pleased with his overseer's performance of late, and had made it abundantly clear that Tony was to clean this mess up and fast or he would do it himself—starting with his foreman. He finally tapped the pages back together and laid them neatly on the desk before looking up at the man before him. "And this is all of it?" he asked mildly.
Tony's attention snapped back to his boss and he nodded. "Yes sir. That's everything that Banning had in his home office and in the safety deposit box except for the ledgers lost in the hangar."
Randolph fixed him with a cool, calculating stare. "Are you sure?"
Tony swallowed. "Yes sir."
Randolph continued to look at him for a moment before tapping the pages with his forefinger and nodding once. "How far back does the other night's loss set us?" he changed the subject.
"It was just the preliminary shipment, so while the lost goods are going to cost us, it doesn't put a strain on our contracts at the moment. I'm using what we have stored right now to fill contracts and am already setting up a deal to replace that. The damage was minimal," Tony answered confidently.
"Will this incident affect the meeting with Hammings next week?"
"No sir," Tony shook his head. "While Hammings was concerned, I assured him that we have this under control and that it was a one-time occurrence and wouldn't happen again. He has made arrangements to be in Denver Thursday evening. I will meet him at the airport and get him settled in that night and bring him out here Friday morning. He wants to see our account history, our stores, and our distribution network before the meeting with the board that afternoon. And he wants you to give the tour personally."
Randolph nodded and sat back in his chair. "Yes, that was already expected. I will meet you here Friday morning. The rest of the board members will arrive that afternoon, and if all goes well, we will be celebrating our new partnership that evening." He paused. "I want nothing to interfere with this deal, Tony, especially the ongoing investigation into the events of Thursday night."
"You have nothing to worry about, sir. They haven't found anything to lead back to us," Tony assured him.
"What about the questions into Fieldman's? I am very concerned about that. They may be guessing at this point, but that is getting a little too close to home," Randolph pointed out.
"They've found nothing. There is nothing in the Fieldman's accounts to point to us. They were only interested in the company because of the shipment we had come in next door that same night."
Randolph's eyes narrowed and he fixed the man before him with a stern expression. "And that is also a point of concern. What were you thinking, having an arms shipment come in at the same place next door to a legitimate shipment for the contracting company? Fieldman's must be kept above reproach. You know that," he chastised his man.
"I had no choice," Tony quickly defended himself. "Donnell called for the change in time and location at the last minute. It was the only place I could set up in the given time. The shipment for Fieldman's was supposed to have come in earlier and completed long before the deal with Donnell. It was a fluke that they both arrived so close to each other."
Randolph folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. "Yes, but that 'fluke' has garnered us Larabee's attention."
"I told you, sir, don't worry about Larabee or his team. They have nothing," Tony protested.
"That may well be, but don't underestimate them either. Whatever else they may be, they are good at what they do. Very good. They don't give up easily, and with one of their agents missing, they will be more tenacious then ever. I do not want Larabee breathing down my neck, especially not now." Randolph's gaze turned decidedly icy with the clear warning in his words.
Tony had to fight to keep from flinching at the deadly glare. "I can handle Larabee," he promised. "He's not in charge of the investigation at the hangar—special agent Martin Lewis is, and I can promise you that you will have no problems with him. He's an incompetent fool and won't find anything. And as for Larabee's visit to Fieldman's, I handled that personally, and I promise that he found nothing and will find nothing. Everything that could possibly lead back to us is there in front of you. Larabee's team is nothing more than a minor annoyance."
Randolph sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers in front of him thoughtfully. "And what of Standish and that child? Only one body was found, so they must have escaped somehow. They can identify me, Tony, and I cannot have that," he warned.
Vitalis rubbed his eyes and shifted his stance before focusing his gaze on his employer's tie, refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm working on that, sir. As you know yourself, he hasn't been in contact with Larabee. But we'll find him sir, don't worry. He's out there, and he'll have to surface sometime. We'll get him."
Randolph raised an eyebrow and stood up to move around the desk and reach for his coat hanging on the hook beside the door. "Yes, but time is a luxury we do not have," he stressed as he slipped into the designer winter wear. "Those ledgers went missing before the fire. I can only assume that either Standish or the child has them. I cannot stress to you enough how damaging those documents can be. They must be found and destroyed, and Standish and his accomplice must be taken care of before this meeting with Hammings. They could jeopardize everything, and I want them neutralized."
Tony nodded in agreement. "They will be, I promise you. I will see to it personally," he assured the man.
"You do that," Randolph commanded as he straightened his collar and scarf and placed his black fedora onto his head firmly. He pulled his car keys from his pocket and moved to pass the other man, but stopped and looked at him with a thoughtful expression. "Something tells me that if we find Standish, we will find those ledgers and the child. You have a week, Tony. I want results soon, or I will take matters into my own hands. And you do not want me to do that," his eyes turned icy and his expression malicious.
Tony flinched and looked away quickly, focusing his gaze on anything but the deadly glare of his boss. "No, sir," he mumbled. "I'll take care of it."
Randolph studied him intently for a moment but made no further comment as he turned to exit the house. Tony followed him out the door and they paused on the small porch. "Do not fail me again, Tony," he stated quietly without turning around as he pulled his smooth, calfskin leather gloves on. "I will not be offering a third chance."
Tony shivered in the slight breeze that blew across the porch from the open fields to the left of the house and from the implied warning. "I understand, sir. I'll get this straightened out," he promised.
Randolph pulled the driver's side door of his Mercedes Benz open and gave the man on the porch one more look of warning before sliding into the leather seat and starting the vehicle. Tony shivered again and rubbed his arm as he watched the car disappear over the rise in the distance. After a few minutes, he shook his head and re-entered the house, slamming the door behind him.
* * * * * * *
Ezra snapped one last picture of the departing vehicle, making sure to get a clear shot of the license plate, before lowering the camera and grinning at the girl beside him. "And thus we have our link from Randolph to Vitalis," he stated smugly.
Ally removed the headphones from her ears and popped the small tape out of the recorder in her lap, holding it up for his inspection and returning his smile. "Hook, line, and sinker, as the saying goes," she returned.
They had spent the previous day poring over the ledgers and book from Banning's office as well as the documents on Fieldmans Construction and a map of the area, narrowing down the list of possible locations for Randolph's base of operations until they came to the warehouse outside of Golden. The warehouse occupied a lot adjacent to a small ranch on the outskirts of the town in a very rural and secluded area. The records they found indicated that while the warehouse was directly off the main road, an abandoned ranch house and outbuildings sat on the opposite side of the property, separated from the main highway and the warehouse by a few miles of forest. Ezra realized immediately that the ranch was a perfect location for the headquarters of the illegal operations and began making plans for a surprise visit.
A quick stop at a pawn shop provided him with the rudiments of what he needed for surveillance, including a camera with a telephoto lens, a parabolic microphone, and recording equipment. A visit to a pharmacy nearby provided the blank tapes and film. At the drugstore counter, Ezra added a pack of playing cards to their purchase on impulse. "What are those for?" Alex asked curiously.
"It has been my experience that stake outs are impossibly long and dreary. We must have some way to alleviate the boredom," he grinned at her.
Another stop at Rosie's diner that evening provided them with a vehicle. Rosie had readily agreed to let them borrow her kaki-green, 1979 Oldsmobile Delta 88 with no questions asked, provided that they return "Ol' Bessie" in top condition. Ezra grimaced as he slid into the driver's seat of the huge vehicle, muttering a multitude of complaints to himself about the car, the things he had to endure for the sake of his job, and life in general, even as he smiled his most charming smile through gritted teeth at the short woman standing in the diner's doorway.
Alex grinned at him cheekily as she tossed the blankets that she had retrieved from the chapel along with her black bag into the large back seat and climbed into the front beside him, settling the sack of sandwiches and two thermoses filled with hot coffee and soup that Rosie had insisted they take with them on the floor between her feet. "It's better than the city bus," she teased.
He shot her a glare worthy of Larabee as he put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, but she just laughed at him.
They arrived at the warehouse a few hours before dawn, hid the car a couple of miles further away along a service road off the main thoroughfare, and hiked onto the ranch. Ezra was a little leery of a "jaunt through the dark," being no outdoorsman in any sense of the word, but Alex assured him that she could get them there. When he asked her how she was so sure that she wouldn't get them lost, she answered "Grandpa was a woodsman," and started off through the trees.
Ezra followed reluctantly, making a note to himself to ask her more about her fascinating paternal relative later.
True to her word, she got them within sight of the old ranch house before they encountered the first of the security measures, which Ezra disabled easily. A quick peak in the window of the old barn standing behind the house proved without a shadow of a doubt that they were in the right place, and they slipped inside to get a closer look at the various illegal paraphernalia that filled the building.
Just as they were ready to leave, they heard a car pull up outside and quickly made sure that all signs of their presence were gone before they exited the building through a back door. They hid in the shadows of the barn and watched as Vitalis slammed shut the door of a small pickup truck and gave some orders to the man who greeted him before stomping into the house. A few minutes later, a light came on in the front room and Vitalis could be seen through a dirty side window, leaning on an old desk with a cell phone held to his ear. They waited a few moments until the guard left and quickly moved to the house, taking up a position outside the window. Ezra focused on listening to what was going on inside while Alex stood at the corner of the house a little further away but still well within ear-shot, keeping alert for any sign of trouble.
From this location, they were able to hear every word of the phone conversation Tony had with Randolph arranging the meeting for later in the afternoon. Though he had originally planned to return to the city after their brief scout of the ranch, Ezra realized that this was an opportunity he could not afford to pass up and decided to wait until that meeting before returning to Denver. He and Alex moved back into the cover of the trees and searched around a bit until they found a perfect hiding spot with a clear view of the front of the house and the side window before she returned to the car for the blankets and the thermoses and he set up the recording equipment and prepared the camera for long distance shots. The first faint rays of dawn were creeping over the mountains as they settled down to await Randolph's arrival.
It was well after three in the afternoon before their quarry made his appearance, pulling up to the house in a shiny silver luxury SUV. Tony met him on the porch, and, after a few words of greeting, the two men entered the building. Alex manned the parabolic mike and the recorder after a few instructions on its use from Ezra, while he settled down beside her on the small grassy knoll with the camera in hand, ready to take plenty of photos of the meeting.
As Randolph's vehicle dropped out of sight, Ezra removed the film from the camera and pocketed it with the other two rolls he had taken and the cassette tape while Alex packed up the blankets and the recording equipment before they began the trek back to their vehicle. They arrived at their destination forty-five minutes later, dumped their equipment into the back seat, and quickly climbed into the car, pointing it in the direction of the city. "So, what now?" Alex asked.
Ezra removed a roll of film from his pocket with his left hand and fingered it absently as he steered the vehicle one-handed down the empty road. "We return this behemoth to Ms. Blaine then make our way to my townhouse. I have the equipment needed to develop these photographs there. And then," he placed the film back into his pocket and gave her a conspiring grin, "we call in the reinforcements."
