Out of the Storm (27 page)

“What do you want me to do?” Eric asked.

“You wanted to come along.
Come along
,” she ordered. “But keep quiet and let me do the talking.”

They dismounted the pickup.

“Detective Hallgren?”

He nodded, watching Eric with narrowed eyes. “Inspector Birch? You fit the description. Who’s your friend?”

“It’s Stacy.” She offered her hand. “And this is Eric Montgomery. His marina had that serious explosion this afternoon.”

Hallgren studied Eric, then offered Eric his hand. “Sorry about that.” He turned toward Stacy. “But what’s he doing
here?
”

“He’s former Special Forces,” Stacy began. “And we go back a long way.” Her eyes pleaded. “Asked to come along. Can you cut him some slack?”

The detective drew his lips into a crooked line. “I don’t think my chief or yours would like citizens hanging around, but…I heard about you,” he said to Eric. “Did some heroic shit over there. Saved a buddy of mine—Joe Kelleher.”

Eric nodded slowly. “I remember. Joe’s a good man. And Buzz Russo’s a good friend, too.”

Stacy tilted her head coyly and parted her lips, showing the detective a smile that could start its own fire.

The double-teaming worked. Eric couldn’t be sure if it was him or Stacy’s charm but Hallgren shrugged and gave in. “Okay.” His lips twisted upward. “Just remember. Eric stays in the background. And if it comes up, he’s attached to the fire marshal’s office.”

They headed to the house, knocked on the massive wood door and met the homeowner. He described the scene just before the explosion. A dark sedan—he thought it was a late model Ford—had parked on a small side path directly across from the marina. Two men got out and stood watching the marina. Both wore khaki shorts and navy polo shirts. Nothing unusual.

“Did you get a look at their faces?” Stacy asked.

“No.” The man shook his head as he stared across the river. “Nothing I could swear to. They were a long way off and their faces were hidden by baseball caps and sunglasses. I couldn’t figure why anyone would be there. Odd place for tourists or fishermen.”

“But they did nothing suspicious?” It was Hallgren’s turn.

“They talked to each other, pointing across the river. Nothing weird that I saw. But just before the explosion, they stared toward the marina.”

Hallgren glanced at Stacy.

“Like they were looking for something?” Stacy shot a look at Eric.

The homeowner nodded. “Maybe. I looked, too and a couple of seconds later—boom. Never heard anything like it.”

“Then what happened? Can you be more specific?” Stacy pressed, eyes narrowed.

The man shrugged. “More specific? Well, they turned and headed back to their car, spent a few seconds doing something. Could have been talking on a cell. I was about to call the police ’cause after the explosion I figured something suspicious was going on. But while I was dialing, they got in their car and in a few seconds they blew sky high.”

“Did you notice anything about the color of the flash or how loud the blast was?” Stacy asked.

The man shook his head. “So bright I had to squint. Almost white I’d say and loud. I served in the artillery in ’Nam and this was as loud as a 155mm howitzer.”

Stacy paid strict attention and took copious notes. She looked at the detective. He took the lead.

“Thanks for calling us and telling us what happened. You were a big help. We may have to talk again,” Hallgren told the homeowner.

They all nodded and shook hands.

Stacy, Hallgren, and Eric returned to their vehicles.

“Simple trigger device set off by something electronic. Explosive was most likely something simple and volatile like nitro.” She looked in the direction of where the vehicle had blown up. “Part of my team is coming over to comb the site but judging from the debris field I doubt they find anything significant.”

Hallgren nodded. “Makes sense. These guys had something to do with the marina explosion and were expendable.”

“I agree,” Stacy confirmed. “But we found something interesting at the marina I want to check out. Something I’ve never seen before.”

They shook hands all around as Stacy and the detective exchanged cards.

“I have some work to do at the lab. But let’s keep in close touch.” She looked at Eric. “This was no accident. Somebody was sending you or someone you’re close to a message.”

Eric looked across at the thin column of smoke and debris still floating on the river. “I figured that out.” He paused. “But when I’m through with them they’ll be damn sorry they did.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

“Long day, Officer Birch. Now where to?” Eric whispered above the engine after Stacy started the truck.

“Back to your Jeep so you can get home and get some rest. One hell of a day,” she said quietly. “I have something I want to check out.”

Eric’s life had been torn apart and Stacy thought of this as a jigsaw puzzle. He wanted to see Ashley desperately, but these people had violated his world and put lives at risk. Eric wanted to tag along and watch Stacy put the pieces together as he had faith she could. Her expression told him not to push it. Her patience was wearing thin.

Stacy put the truck in gear and they headed back toward Route 28, the main road that hugged the Cape’s South Shore. The trip took ten minutes more than it should have. The bridge that crossed the river going west was a bottleneck.

“You know we have company?” she asked, looking at Eric. “They’ve been following us since we left the marina.”

“They’re the good guys,” he said, hoping he was right.

She nodded, looked in the mirror and raised her eyebrows. “What’s going on here, Eric?”

“I need to talk to someone before I tell you. Knowing this guy he’s already talked to your boss, the fire chief, and the governor by now.”

“Sounds like a good man to know.” She nodded in approval. “I’d like to meet him.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Eric agreed as he thought of Carson sitting in his room, fuming and barking orders, wheels spinning, surrounded by his men and equipment. “You’ll like him. He’s probably listening to us right now on some $100,000 parabolic mic.”

After three changes they made it through the lights at Route 28 and Old Main Street. Two minutes later they pulled into the marina’s parking lot.

Stacy fidgeted with her lip again and tapped the steering wheel. “Where are you going? You seem wired,” she asked.

“I got a couple of calls to make, but I’m gonna head over to the hospital and see how Ashley is doing.”

“She’s the girl who ran your office?”

He nodded.

“Bobby told me about her. Sounds like she’s pretty special.” She sighed. “They took her to the hospital.”

“She’s…” He paused, searching for the right words. “Real special. Like no one else I’ve ever met.”

“Wow, that’s quite an endorsement,” she whispered, staring straight ahead. “Well then. You better go see that she’s all right.”

He took her hand and gave her a warm smile. Her eyes had a moist look again but she returned the smile. “See you first thing in the morning. By then I hope I’ll have some answers I can share.”

****

Eric closed his cell. Kylie and Lu were watching TV, surrounded by a security detail that would have made the President blush. But he was glad. They were both so special. Eric squeezed the steering wheel so tightly it hurt.

He started the Jeep and pulled out of the parking lot with the expected shadow doing its best to look inconspicuous. As he got to Route 28 he fumbled in his shirt pocket and found Carson’s card. As he waited at the light, Eric used his thumb to dial the number.

“Eric,” Carson greeted him evenly. “Did you have fun playing detective with the fire marshal?”

“It was informative, but I’ll bet you’re two steps ahead of me.”

“If you mean do I know a couple of guys were eyeballing the marina just before the explosion—yeah.” He paused and put his hand over the phone, calling to someone nearby. “Sorry. If we can get enough of them to find some dental work or prints we may figure out who they are. If not, Ashley’s still our only lead.”

“Shit,” Eric whispered into the phone. “So she wasn’t just imagining things.”

“Well, you got that call this morning. Did that sound like they were playing games?”

Eric was about to ask how Carson knew about the call to his bedroom when he realized their lives had probably been public for weeks.

“Don’t worry, son,” Carson said, as if reading Eric’s mind. “We aren’t voyeurs. What happened or didn’t happen between you two is none of my business unless it involves national security.”

“Good to know.” Eric smiled self-consciously. “Look, I’m going over to the hospital to see Ashley, but I want to meet…afterwards. I want to know what the hell’s going on here.”

“You want to help, be a soldier again, protect your pretty little lady and her daughter?” Carson asked. “You suddenly want to make the world safe for democracy?”

It required no thought. From the moment he saw the smoke rising from the marina and thought about what might have happened to Ashley, Kylie and Bobby, he knew the answer. “You’re fucking right I do. I’ll call you when I leave the hospital.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Eric pulled into the hospital parking lot at 8:10. He’d just spoken to Louise again. Poor Kylie had cried herself to sleep. He hated leaving them alone but they were safe with a complement of Carson’s watchdogs. Those guys were no rent-a-cops.

A Barnstable police cruiser hid behind a small grove of trees as he parked his Jeep and got down. Eric sneaked a glance toward the vehicle. Two men in plain clothes sat inside as he entered the main building. A uniformed officer stood concealed in an alcove near the door as he entered.
Damn!
Was this all for Ashley or was Whitey Bulger in the building? The big question he kept asking himself was why? Were they here to protect Ashley or keep her prisoner?

Stopping at the information desk, Eric grew concerned when the volunteer on duty told him she was in intensive care on the third floor. The woman shot a glance at the policeman near the entrance. Eric nodded casually to the man who immediately put his 230 pounds between Eric and the hallway.

“Can I help you?” the officer asked.

“Sure.” Eric was frustrated and angry, itching for a confrontation but held himself in check. “Here to see Ashley Fitzhugh. In intensive care. She’s family,” he lied.

“May I see an ID, sir?” the officer asked in non-confrontational tones.

When Eric reached for his wallet the man’s hand slid to his holster. The hammer lock had been removed.

“Here.” Eric pulled out his wallet with two fingers. The officer held it up, eyes never leaving Eric while his hand wrapped around the grip of his SIG-Sauer. This guy was no amateur. Experienced and sharp. Ex-military. Hand-picked for the job. Carson knew his talent and chose the best.

The officer smiled and handed Eric back the license.

“Thank you, sir.” He nodded.

Eric looked around.

“Take the first elevator on your right,” the man volunteered.

“Thanks again.” Eric returned the nod and headed down the long hall.

When he reached the third floor he was amazed to see Jack, Carson’s right-hand man and former CIA operative, talking to another uniformed officer. Jack nodded and approached, holding out his hand.

“Mr. Montgomery,” he said with a look of quiet assurance. Despite confidence in his own martial-arts skills, if this man’s handshake was an indicator of strength, Eric was glad they were on the same side. “She’s in here. The Admiral said to expect you.” His smile stretched thin across his lips. Jack looked alert but tired. Eric was sure his boss was a taskmaster.

“The Admiral?” Eric must have looked curious.

“Yes, sir. That’s his rank and title.” For a brief moment Jack’s thin smile grew. It disappeared quickly.

“Is Ashley all right?” Eric asked with concern as he studied the rooms. The others were surrounded by clear glass enclosures with a dizzying collection of technology arrayed inside. Patients lay immobile, some with concerned looking visitors. Ashley’s room was more conventional, hidden anonymously behind a massive wooden door.

“She’s fine. Just sedated. It’s a contained environment.” Jack gestured as he looked around. “Easier to control.”

“She must be valuable to justify this much security. What the hell did she stumble onto?” Eric inquired as they stepped into her room.

Jack waited till they were inside the door. “The Admiral will have to explain that. He put this whole operation together.”

“Okay,” Eric agreed. He still wondered what Ashley knew or had seen to create this much commotion. His team had been assigned to guard some visiting political heavyweights, but he could never remember this size detail. “Are you expecting trouble?” he asked.

“Can never tell.” The man shrugged casually. “Comes when you least expect it.” He pulled the massive door shut, adding, “But you know that.”

Eric shot him a look. He felt a mixture of pride and irritation at being grouped with these men whose lives were characterized by death and secrecy.

“Can I sit with her?” he asked.

“Be my guest.” Jack turned and let himself out. “She’s not a prisoner.”

Eric surveyed the room. It was like so many others he’d witnessed. Soft, electronic pulses droned in the background while a sterile, antiseptic odor permeated the room. Eric approached the bed on tiptoes. His face flushed as he saw her, eyes lingering on each feature. He relaxed as her regular breathing kept pace with the monitor that stood next to the bed. As he reached her bedside, Eric touched her hand. It was warm, sending shivers up his arm. She responded immediately, smiling as if she knew he was there.

“Ashley,” he whispered as he bent down to examine her injuries. The paramedic had been on target. Everything looked superficial. One of the wounds on her forehead might be deep enough to leave a small scar. It didn’t matter to Eric. He just needed to know she was all right. He breathed deeply and gripped her hand more tightly.