“I knew that area was isolated. I thought we could make it work. The story would be, the VP got ashore, no one was at the nearest home, but he had lived in the area long enough that he recognized the property. He broke into the home and called me to say where he was. I arrived, confirmed he was secure, and called in a helo to pick us up from there. The story held because the VP sold it as true. The VP had plunged into the ocean and drifted for thirty minutes, so he was cold and saltwater-saturated, while I broke the glass in the back door and called my own phone. If I hadn’t known the truth, I would have believed the story.”
Reece stood looking out over the water, then shook his head. “Paul, the only thing I really thought that day was, I’m glad he’s alive. The rest was simply details. I’d spent a lifetime ready to take a bullet for him. Jim’s a friend, as was his wife. I could deal with about anything as long as I didn’t have to attend his funeral. And as sad as I am at his wife’s passing, I guess I’m glad she isn’t here to see this day. It would have broken her heart to realize who the chief of staff really was. The VP never did tell her the truth.”
“This will cost you your job with the Secret Service.”
“I know. If they take the pension and benefits along with it, Jim has already insisted I let him make it good, and I’ll probably let him. I broke every duty I had to the country by keeping this quiet, but I can still live with the decision. It wasn’t just the VP; it was the lady abducted to write the diary. I would have been destroying her life too had this become public that day. I couldn’t protect her and leave that scene intact.”
Paul considered asking if Reece wanted to say that lady was Ann, but he didn’t. This was the man who had known the truth and had helped Ann in the years since. Ann trusted him. Ann had dated him. And Paul thought he understood why. The man was a solid guy, and Paul liked him even more now.
“Ann mentioned that you’ve recently gotten engaged. Have you told your fiancée about this?”
“Not yet.”
“You should tell her.”
“I will, a couple weeks before the book is released. I think Ann has already warned her something is there. They were friends long before I met either of them.”
“You used to go out with Ann.”
“We spent about four years together,” Reece replied, assessing him. “I’ve heard you’re dating her now.”
“Trying to.”
Reece’s smile was both sympathetic and amused. “I remember that feeling. Ann and I have history, and a friendship, and somewhere along the way we realized it was going to be a lifelong friendship rather than end up with us married. A few years later, Ann introduced me to Cindy, and the next thing I know I’m buying a ring. I don’t regret what is now, nor do I regret those years with Ann. Of everyone I’ve ever known, Ann still leads the list of people I enjoy spending time with.” He looked a long moment at Paul. “You mind some advice?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t let her stall. There’s something back there that keeps her from getting married that I never figured out. I didn’t realize I’d hit that wall until later when I looked back on it. It worries me, what it is. She’s good at relationships, and yet she’s still single and seems content to stay that way. It’s one thing for that to be a decision; it’s another when there’s a reason for it.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Ann is more skilled at sliding around a question than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“I’ve noticed. I appreciate the counsel.” Paul thought about it and what it said about Ann, then put it away to ponder later. He turned the conversation back to why they were here. “Can you show me the map again, of the route from here to the cabin and how you and the VP came back that night?”
“Sure.” They walked back to the house, and Reece laid out the map on the dining room table. He traced the way the chief of staff had traveled, and the way he had returned. Paul then took Sam and Rita on a walk of the property, replaying the events of that day to see if there were any holes in the story detailed in the chapter.
“The security is one problem, boss,” Rita said. “The VP and the chief of staff went fishing together, the chief of staff abducts the VP, and security isn’t in a place to know what happened, or to even know the chief of staff was here on the estate. That’s where the press will focus.”
“Talk me through it again.”
“The wife left with Secret Service—Reece—for a public event, the VP went down to the dock to go fishing, the three security officers on-site locked down the two gates with padlocks, and begin a long-planned upgrade of the security system and cameras on the grounds. The chief of staff timed his abduction to the day and hour they began that security upgrade. He had scripted what would be done during the upgrade and what order it would happen, so he knew exactly where the security staff would be. He made sure they were blind and they were busy. Their priority was getting the system swapped out and the cameras back on within forty-five minutes. For those forty-five minutes, no one was watching the back of the house.
“The chief of staff came to the south gate, cut the padlock, drove to the turnaround, and parked. The VP pulled the boat alongside that floating platform and picked up the chief of staff. After the abduction, the chief of staff drives out the same way, puts on a new padlock, and heads to the cabin with the VP. The chief of staff even had arranged for the new padlock key to be on the peg where the others were. It isn’t until the diary was read that it’s known the padlock wasn’t the one security had put on the gate. It was perfect, boss. How many abduction plans go perfectly?” Rita shook her head.
Sam added another concern. “The chief of staff planned getting onto this estate and getting out without being seen. My question is why didn’t the VP tell anyone the chief of staff was coming? Why not mention it to his Secret Service or his house security staff that the chief of staff is coming to go fishing with him?”
Rita nodded. “That’s a key question. Maybe the VP didn’t want to distract his wife with the idea of company coming that day. Maybe the chief of staff had downplayed the idea he might be able to come—I’m probably going to be tied up and unable to get away—such that the VP wasn’t expecting him unless he called.”
Paul thought about it and shook his head. “The security upgrade that the chief of staff had arranged gave a window for him to come and go unseen. We’ve seen bigger breakdowns in security before, and this one is large, but it actually makes sense. It was part of the abduction plan, diverting the security, and the chief of staff had a solid plan. Part of that plan had to be somehow keeping the VP from mentioning the chief of staff’s possible arrival to go fishing. It’s going to be messy for reporters to believe, but that’s the story the VP is telling. Does it time out?”
“We’ve timed it, and it does play out as possible.”
“All right. What else is catching your attention?”
“The cover-up held once he was back. That the VP was in the water for hours, that his injuries were from the surf knocking him around on the rocks,” Rita said.
Sam nodded. “That’s not such a problem. He’s wet, cold, half in shock, and says with a laugh, I fell off my boat. They’re going to take his word for it. Even if a doctor suspects there is more to an abrasion than what he’s told, the suspicion is doctor-patient privilege. The VP says he’s got a rope burn on his wrist because he tried to pull himself back up onto his boat and the wet rope abraded his skin, it’s a plausible explanation. He says he’s got a bruised rib because a wave tossed him into a boulder, it’s going to be accepted. The cover-up held because it was a plausible story.”
“What else?” Paul asked.
“There’s not much else to pull apart. It could have happened as the chapter outlines. It’s simply a near-perfect abduction and cover-up, and that is rare. The chapter is well written and accurate for what is here, but there is no way to know if it is the truth.”
“Go ahead and wrap it down, finish your notes, then enjoy the beach and
some of that food they’ve put out. I’m going to take a walk, think about all this a bit.”
“Sure, boss.”
The two headed back to the house, and Paul went to the beach. For the first time, this was feeling just a bit too perfect. The chief of staff could have done this, but it all worked because the VP also didn’t say anything, didn’t tell anyone the chief of staff was coming to join him fishing. It wasn’t like the chief of staff was someplace just down the road. He’d been in Illinois and made a long trip to come. The VP should have mentioned to someone—the housekeeper, the chef—that his chief of staff was going to be visiting. It felt like a hole, and Paul couldn’t explain it. Maybe Rita was right, the VP hadn’t wanted to distract his wife before her public appearance. Maybe the chief of staff had been vague about it, or simply said he couldn’t come.
“Paul.”
He turned, and there was Ann coming toward him. He held out his hand as she joined him.
“If you’ve seen what you need to see, I can have us back home tonight if we get ourselves to the airport now.”
He heard something in her voice he’d never heard before, and he studied her thoughtfully. “We could. Or we could spend the night and have a few hours to walk on the beach while we’re here. It seems a pity to let the sand go to waste.”
“How about a walk on the beach now, then we go home?”
“You in a hurry?”
“After this you’re going to dig up a coffin, get the photos, and finish your investigation. I’m looking forward to putting this case into the forever-closed column.”
He’d become accustomed to the cool distance in her voice when she spoke about the case. This was the first sign of impatience—maybe under it a touch of dread. She wanted desperately to get this over with and be done. Because he understood that, he merely nodded. “Beach first. Then you can fly us home.”
She promptly sat down and tugged off her tennis shoes, rolled the socks up to stuff inside, and turned up the cuffs of her jeans. He had to smile as he watched her. So much determined energy on getting him to move in the direction she wanted. He reached for her hand to help her up. “You really want to be back in the air.”
“I dislike wasting time when there’s a case to finish.”
“I’ll remember that.” He nodded toward the break wall. “To the break wall and back. While we walk, tell me about as many times as you can remember when you have been on a beach.”
“It’s not a long enough walk for that,” she protested, and began with a trip she had taken with Kate and Shari.
Paul listened to her, studied her, and made a decision that they would exhume the coffin as soon as they were back in Illinois and could make the short flight to the cemetery. In forty-eight hours this could be over. They had enough figured out now that if the press somehow caught wind of the truth, they’d all be ready to deal with it. He would simply have to make sure no one saw inside the casket and realized the chief of staff had not been buried in the grave marked with his tombstone. Ann was right. It was time to get this case finished.
A military honor guard stood present as they exhumed the chief of staff’s grave. Paul stood at respectful attention, Ann beside him. Sam, Rita, Reece, and Vicky were watching from the opposite side of the burial plot. The cover story—the transfer of the deceased at the VP’s request to lie at rest beside friends and fellow soldiers—was holding. They exhumed the entire grave, lifting the coffin inside the casing vault intact and securing it, after appropriate ceremony and draping of the flag, onto a flatbed truck for transport. They followed the casket to the army base, where a temporary resting place in the armory had been arranged before transfer in the morning to its assumed final resting place. They would, in fact, rebury it in an unmarked grave.
When they were alone, Paul nodded to Sam. Under the flag, the vault containing the coffin was caked in dirt and scraped by the hoist, but seemed otherwise undamaged. Rita took photos while Sam opened the vault lid. Paul caught the faint smell of stale air and polishing oil. The coffin rested securely inside, its burnished wood still gleaming.
“Open it in place,” Paul said. “There’s no need to remove the coffin from the vault.”
Sam leaned inside and turned the clasp, lifted the coffin’s lid.
Knowing it was empty of a body and seeing it empty were two different emotions. A long box made of hard plastic rested inside, sealed tight against any air. Sam lifted it out and carried it to the table. He used his knife to slit the tape and caulked seam. And then he removed the box lid.
They looked in at the collected evidence of the crime. The paper sack with the chief of staff’s collected belongings still looked as if it had been rolled up yesterday. The duct tape had pulled away and opened with age. A camera rested securely on a bed of foam. Negatives in protective sleeves, and photos curling at the corners but still sharp with color, rested beside the camera. The VP’s handwritten account was in a box, each page protected by an evidence sleeve and carefully marked into evidence by Reece Lion.
“Reece, anything you want to add or remember now that you see this evidence?”
“No.”
Paul picked up the photos and spread them across the table.
They saw for the first time the cabin as it had been.
The fight was there in the broken and overturned furniture, smashed television, mauled rugs.
They saw the chief of staff with a fatal gunshot wound to the head.
The VP had bruises on his face, a split and bleeding lip, swollen wrists from tight restraints, a badly bruised rib cage, and shock still present in his eyes.
It was the blood on the cabin floor, unrelated to where the chief of staff lay dead, that held Paul’s attention.
He looked from the photos to find Ann. She had come no farther into the armory than where the vehicles had been parked. From there she was looking at what was on the table. She was sheet white and fighting nausea so bad he could see it in her face, but she hadn’t left. She hadn’t asked Vicky to step outside with her. “Anything you would like to see?” he asked quietly, making no effort to encourage or discourage her decision.
“No.”
He swept the photos together and gave them to Rita.
“Sam, seal up the coffin and vault. Let’s get this finished.”
On the plane back to the VP’s estate, Paul read the handwritten account of events Gannett had written the day of abduction and found it remarkably organized for the stress the man had been under. The account matched what was in the chapter, the cover-up plan less detailed and a bit different for what had actually been done, a fact that only added to the authenticity. These pages had been written before the cabin burned, for there were photographs of the VP holding this handwritten document with the cabin behind him.
Sam and Rita finished work on the trip report. “Tell me what you think of this.” Paul handed over the VP’s report on the abduction. “Let me see those photos again, Rita.” He held out his hand, and she put them in it. Vicky had moved forward to the cockpit to sit with Ann an hour ago. Paul caught Reece’s attention and held up the photos. Reece shook his head.
Paul slowly flipped through the photos. He stopped on the one he suspected marked Ann’s private nightmare, the floor of the cabin overlaid with crisscrossing splatters of blood.
He would eventually need to have a conversation with her. He knew, and she suspected he knew. She still couldn’t put it in words. He understood a victim surviving by silence, dealing with what had happened by not giving it room to breathe and live. It was carefully packed and locked closed to keep it in the past. She hadn’t found the courage to risk telling him.
Ann’s reaction to what was happening with all this worried him. When the coffin had been opened, when she had seen the recovered evidence, she had felt it as a living thing. He was concerned about those nightmares, about what they would be like tonight and for the next many nights. What might all this trigger? But he couldn’t help her unless she would let him.
r /> He slid the photos into a manila envelope and sealed it in an evidence bag.
An hour later, Paul watched the small airport appear and the runway lights grow brighter. Ann landed the plane smoothly, taxied as directed, and brought the aircraft inside the hangar before shutting down the engines.
Reece opened the cabin door and lowered the steps. Sam took the first evidence case with him while Rita carried the second one. Vicky followed them. Paul waited at the cabin door for Ann to step from the cockpit. “Ride back to the VP estate with us.”
She shook her head. “Vicky’s taking me home.”
“Ann—”
“Don’t push. Please.”
He settled for wrapping her in a hug. “Sleep in, then come find me. Okay?”
She simply hugged him and stepped back. “Go get this finished.”
Paul joined Sam and Rita the next morning in the secure conference room. He hadn’t slept much, and the coffee was barely cutting the fatigue. The photos were spread across the table. “Where are we at?”
“His written account matches the chapter. The photos back it up,” Rita replied. “The evidence in this room, these photos, the written accounts, it all lines up to be what it is—proof the VP’s chapter is correct. They have proven the chief of staff killed eighteen people and abducted the VP. It may not be a complete account, but what is here fits with this evidence.”
“Have we found anything indicating there’s something else out there?”