Chasing Love's Wings (2 page)

The reality of what Evelyn put me through when my children were younger finally has
new meaning and a new purpose. Because of her I’ve managed to keep my fatherhood a
secret, and I have no doubt that there will be no reason Cameron needs to get involved
in all of this. At least I hope not. But I’m suddenly scared for her. If I stay here
or flee under witness protection, where does that leave Cameron and my family?
 

If these men are as dangerous as Special Agent Markensen is implying, they will stop
at nothing to bring me back to them, including, but not limited to, killing my daughter.
 

I continue to ponder ways to protect Cameron until Special Agent Markensen returns.
This time he is not alone. “Mr. Enders, this is Agent Elizabeth Tod. She is one of
our agents who specializes in witness protection.” We exchange handshakes. “I’ve explained
to her your situation regarding who you are, and she is going to discuss some options
available to you at this time. Due to the nature of witness protection, all the microphones
and cameras have been turned off in this room, and I will be leaving you with Agent
Tod. She will inform me of your decision and the steps we need to take.”
 

Uh, what? “Sure,” I say, despite the fact that my hands have gone cold and clammy
and my heart is trying to pound through my chest. Losing my cool is not something
I’m used to, but I am no longer in control. I can’t control this situation, unless
of course I want to end up dead. Which just might happen anyway.
 

“Mr. Enders?” The pretty Agent Tod is working to get my attention. I look over at
her. “I want to first let you know that I do not know the nature of the information
you’ve shared with Special Agent Markensen, only that we need to establish some type
of immediate protection. We can give you no more than twenty-four hours to get your
personal affairs in order before we need to find someplace for you to go.”

“Twenty-four hours? That’s it?”

“Yes, sir. We can protect you for the next twenty-four hours, after which point it
becomes difficult to remain conspicuous. Given the nature of who you are — and I do
know who you are — we need to figure out the best course of action to take. We can
protect you as long as you’re out of the public eye. After that, we would be hard-pressed
to keep you under wraps.”
 

“What exactly are you suggesting here?” I knew I should’ve just left this shit alone.
More than likely, I’m being paranoid and nothing will ever come of this, but dammit.

“You need to disappear. Completely. If you have the means to leave the country, I
strongly suggest that you do. We can help you with passports and identification to
get you out of here. Unfortunately, if you leave the country, we cannot protect you.
However, leaving the country anonymously should help.”
 

“What if I don’t want to leave the country?”

“Again, Mr. Enders, I do not know the nature of the information you’ve shared with
Special Agent Markensen, but his recommendation is out of the county, and not to Mexico
or any countries within Latin America. Otherwise, the world is your stage to go where
you want. Is there somewhere you can go that cannot be traced back to you?”
 

I don’t even need to think about it. “I have a ranch in Montana.”
 

“Do you own it?”
 

“I do, but it is not now, nor has it ever been, under my name.”
 

“Can the home be traced back to you in any way, shape or form?”

“Look, Agent Tod, I am a man of Hollywood. Everything in my life is subject to the
same scrutiny that my clients face. So much of my life is public knowledge, and there
are very few things that I have that allow me to maintain some level of my privacy.
That ranch is one of them.”

“What else?”
 

“My daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” She doesn’t succeed in hiding any level of shock she feels
in response to that information.

“Yes, but I don’t think she likes me very much.”
 

“Will she be a problem for those we are hiding you from? Since that piece of information
isn’t common knowledge, can she be traced back to you?”
 

“She can, but the paper trail is very long and I’m not sure there is a vendetta big
enough to make that worth the effort. I tried my hardest to protect her from Hollywood
and what I face on a daily basis. No one knows she exists.” Sometimes I wonder if
she even knows I exist, but I don’t need to bring that up right now.
 

“What about your business? What will happen if you walk away? I’m assuming, based
on your public stature, that you’re an integral part of your business?”
 

“I am, but just up and leaving my life, personal or professional, will cause major
problems. I am a very active contributor to my business; if I just up and disappear,
that will not only cause business problems, but it will make the news. Bringing attention
to the fact that I’ve disappeared is not what you or the FBI want to deal with. Not
to mention the fact that, because of the news, they — the bad guys — will know that
I’ve consulted law enforcement, forcing their hand to more drastic measures. Agent
Tod, let’s be frank for a moment. The only way I can walk away from my life and make
a clean break from everyone and everything is if I die.”

I watch as she considers my options. “Mr. Enders, faking a death is not something
we believe in doing. We prefer to pull you away quickly and quietly.”

“Agent Tod, my leaving my job and walking away from my life will do a multitude of
things. One, my business will fold, and therefore my thousand-plus employees will
be out of their jobs. Two, my daughter will be exposed for who she is, my daughter,
thereby making her a target for the people you’re trying to protect me from. That
would be counterproductive, don’t you think? Third of all, if one and two happen,
all of my assets will be frozen in the big Bold business blunder and my daughter will
walk away from all of this with nothing. I have not worked myself thin for the last
thirty years to establish a business as successful as mine to watch it fold in front
of my eyes, and I would then have—” I stop myself. “I would have someone to blame
for that. Do you see where I’m going with this?”

She nods.
 

“Good. Now, if I ‘die,’ my daughter gets her inheritance, my business stays afloat,
and I can walk away from everything I’ve just outlined, keeping everyone safe. Now,
let me tell you again, if you want to protect me and my family, I need to die.”

May 27th, 2011

“Goddammit, Bobby, this is not the way to go about this. There are other options.”

“Options like what? Hiding or wandering around wondering if I am going to get shot
or killed?”

“Think about her, about your family, your friends, your life.”
 

“Shut up, Vinnie. This is the only way I can do this and you know it. If I die by
their hands, they win and my daughter will never be safe. If I die by my hands and
within my control, she remains safe, the business goes on, she takes over, and life
goes on, just as it would go on if I died without all this bullshit.”
 

“I know, but...dammit, Robert, she’s not ready for this. She hates you; she won’t
take over the business, and she will resent you for the rest of her life.”

“She won’t have a choice. My final will and testament will see to that. As far as
resenting me goes, I’m pretty sure she already does that.”
 

“How did you even get mixed up in all this bullshit?”
 

“Tick.”

“What? How?”
 

“He neglected to tell me that he changed suppliers. When the new supplier forced the
original one out of business and out of town, Tick had no one else to turn to. So
he went with Mendoza. Tick failed to tell his clientele that they were dealing with
the purest of drugs available.”

“You don’t think that’s what...” Vinnie doesn’t finish his sentence. He knows it.
The whole reason Bobby had gotten involved in the supply business was to keep his
clients’ names off police radar and give them a constant supply when they needed it
from a reliable source. Tick, of course, was making bank on the markup, but neither
Bobby nor Bold ever took a kickback from the drug sales. Leaving their hands clean,
but them aware of what was going on.
 

“So, I figured it out, figured out who to blame for the change, and ended up walking
into a drug deal between Mendoza and Aaron.” Vinnie can’t hide the surprise on his
face. Aaron had never been on any of their lists. “Because of that, I have to either
disappear or be killed for real.”

“There is so much I want to say to you.”
 

“Stop, it’s not necessary. We will see each other again one day. Once the world has
forgotten about Robert Enders. Or this asshole’s bullshit ends.”

May 28th, 2011

******

Mick

******
 

“Mick, it’s Vincent.” Why on earth is he calling me?

“What’s up, Vinnie?”
 

“Are you still working with Cameron?”
 

“Yes,” I say rather slowly.
 

“Is she your friend?”
 

“What the fuck, Vinnie?”
 

“Look, I need to tell you something, and I need you to pass it on to her. It will
be better if it comes from a friend.” Not good.
 

“Sure, what is it?”
 

I hear Vinnie take a deep breath on the other end of the phone, almost as though he
is composing himself to say something serious, but I can’t even begin to imagine what
it is. “Bobby’s dead.”
 

Well that is not what I was expecting. “When? How?”
 

“Last night. One of his security men found him this morning in his office, crumpled
up on the floor.” Another deep breath.
 

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying hard to figure out how best to tell Cami this.
They are far from close, but dammit if this isn’t going to kill her.
 

“They believe it was a heart attack.”

“Christ, Vinnie, he’s only fifty-seven.” I’m trying to wrap my brain around this,
trying to understand it, but I can’t. Bobby has always been healthy — exercising,
eating healthy, everything.
 

“There is nothing to indicate foul play, though they will be doing an autopsy today
to be sure. If it was a heart attack, we’ll know right away. If it was something more
malicious, that will take time. I just thought Cameron should find out from you rather
than from me. She doesn’t even know who I am,” Vinnie says. There is a sadness in
his voice. Sadness for Cami, possibly. Maybe because he didn’t find out until this
morning that Bobby had a daughter or just a general sadness for his own loss. I don’t
know Vincent well, but I’ve never known him to be the emotional type.

“I’ll take care of it. Are there funeral arrangements yet?”

“If the medical examiner finishes today, we will have service on Tuesday. With Monday
being the holiday, it’s easier on Tuesday. The estate attorney has scheduled the open
reading of the will for Tuesday morning. Cameron should probably be there.”
 

Not likely. “All right. How can we contact you with questions?”

“Use this number.”
 

“All right, thanks Vinnie.”
 

He hangs up without another word.

I sit back in my chair, trying to figure out how best to tell Cami that her dad is
dead. I wish I could do it in person — I should probably do it in person — but I...I’m
not sure I can take the look on her face. This is going to destroy her.

I pick up my cell and pull up her contact information. After a minute or two of debate,
I press the send button.
 

“Magic Mick.”
 

I smile, despite the circumstances, at her nickname for me.
 

“Hi, Cami girl. What are you doing?”

“I just pulled up in front of the Apple store, why?”
 

“Are you still driving?”

“No, what’s going on, Mick?”

“Is Beau with you?”

“No, she’s in Portland for a few weeks with her family. Mick, what is going on?” I
can hear the rising panic in her voice.

“Do you know who Vincent is?”

“No, should I?”

“Not really, it’s not that important.” I don’t know how to tell her this but I have
to. “Cami, I have some bad news.”

“Mick, the only bad news you could possibly have for me is that I’m broke, but I doubt
that. So what’s up?” That hint of panic disappears momentarily and then returns. She
doesn’t sound at all cheerful or like her usual joking self when it comes to money.
But it doesn’t seem like she is on the same wavelength as to why I would have bad
news for her, so this is going to either go really smoothly or she is going to go
over the top.
 

“Cami, your father passed away last night.”

“Well, shit,” she says, but then I hear it: the sob I wasn’t expecting.
 

“I have the details, if you want them...”

“How?”
 

“How what?”
 

“How did he die, Mick?” she asks, but her anger is coming through.
 

“Heart attack.”
 

“That son of a bitch.” The phone goes dead.

“Cami?...Hello?” Nothing.

ONE

July 2012 - Phoenix, Arizona

******

Cami

******

“How long until your flight?” Tristan and I are in my condo in Phoenix, a place we’ve
only been for a few days, ever since returning from Tristan’s New York premiere. That
was an experience that I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to do again. But he made it
fun by making me feel like I was the only thing that mattered, and that made it worth
it. Regardless of what was going on around him, I was more important.