Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2) (20 page)

Max Hargrove was at an impasse following the ‘urgent’ meeting which was called by Chip Chaplain. CFO Max was in his office scanning the electronic fiscal records of the Partnership. Although he was responsible for monitoring, authenticating and directing the fiscal platform of the partnership, there were phases of recent financial activity that he was not fully informed about. USAP accounts in European banks, for instance, showed incoming transfers of capital from two Canadian bank accounts with no accompanying declarations. Max felt that, in his position, any transfers or withdrawals of currency should have been subject to his approval, or at a minimum, notification. He had not received any declarations or notice of intent for the transfers. He was in the process of ‘closing the books’ for the USAP fiscal year which ended annually on November 30
th
. This closure statement would contain his personal affirmation and acceptance as Chief Financial Officer for USAP.

The fiscal year previous to his being appointed had been affirmed and accepted by Chip Chaplain, substituting for the CFO Ernest Bickford following his death earlier in that year. Without clear background data for the previous report, he might have to include a disclaimer to protect himself.

The total net operating income of the Partnership for the previous year, divided equally between Max and the other Partners, was the basis for their current monthly income account drawdowns.

Max would not be responsible for any discrepancies which occurred prior to his starting date. Although he had done an informal scan of the books, he detected no obvious discrepancies. An in-depth internal accounting audit would have been required for guaranteed validity.

After signing off on the current monthly salaries and reimbursements for the guards and supporting staff, Max initialed the same for the Partners. Feeling a headache coming on, he decided to request a two-day pass to get a thorough check-up with his primary physician, back in New Haven, Connecticut. He made a call to Brad requesting an aircraft for that purpose.

The twin-engine Beechcraft Bonanza was available and Brad promised to have it fueled and ready within 30 minutes. Max emailed the routinely-required pass request to Chip and put the balance of his paperwork in his attaché case, to be finished at home. Before he left there was one more call to make. He dialed Maggie’s cell phone.

“Hello there,” Maggie answered, “and what can I do for you today?”

“You’re going to love this one,” Max began. “I’m flying in later. While I’m on the way, I want you to stop in to visit one of our dearest friends in East Wayford.”

“Of course, and which one, there are so many,” she queried, going along with the supposed joke.

“Police Chief Joe Salvadore,” Max replied. There was a pause before Maggie answered. Max could picture her pulling the phone away from her ear and staring at it with an incredulous look. “Did you say Salvadore?” Maggie asked finally. “I thought you said ‘dearest friend’. He’s not that friendly and he certainly cannot be described as dear!”  Max laughed at what he had expected would be Maggie’s response.

The drawn-out saga in which he and Maggie had become entangled back in East Wayford two years before was partly due to then-detective Joe Salvadore. He had keyed in on them as murder suspects in a series of killings which took place in that area. Maggie’s abrasiveness toward him, and Max’s evasiveness of his snooping questions, had convinced him that they were guilty of something. Inexperienced, ambitious, and naïve, Salvadore relied on his fascination with detective movies and TV episodes as a reference. He had convinced himself that the couple were the perpetrators of heinous serial murders. Actually, all that Max and Maggie were concealing was their personal involvement while jointly providing financial services. That practice could have been considered unethical collusion. The timing of the murders had inadvertently coincided with their financial services within the community.

“I would do this myself but to save time, I want you to ask Salvadore to okay permits for both you and I to carry concealed weapons. The permit would be for ‘protection while inspecting and prospecting for information regarding high-profile financial transactions’. If he approves the process I’ll go with you to thank him for his help.”

“If it’s important to you I’ll make a visit,” Maggie replied after hesitating for a moment. “Didn’t you get a permit at USAP though?” she questioned.

Max explained that, as with all of the Partners, he kept the issued weapons in his locker at the firing range. This, however, was for private use. Maggie could sense by his tone that he was skirting around the issue for a reason so she didn’t pursue the issue any further.  Max thanked her and promised to call her when he had a landing time estimate. He picked up his briefcase and exited his office.

As the elevator responded to Max’s call button at the 2
nd
floor, Danyel appeared from around the corner where her office was located.

“Hi Max, hold that door…wait a second,” she said putting her hand on his forearm, “Mum’s the word,” she whispered, pointing to the elevator interior. She stepped in as Max nodded and followed. He got the idea that she felt, or knew, that the elevator had a hidden microphone and/or camera. “I’m heading out,” he said, as the elevator door closed. “I need to have this concussion problem resolved. These headaches are driving me nuts.”

“You must have taken a blow from hitting the floor or being clobbered when you were drugged,” she offered. Max agreed and sensed that Danyel was sincere in her concern. His curiosity was aroused over her apparent resistance to Chip’s ideas and/or agenda. He also was aware that it might be the norm for them, or something personal relating to a prior association.

On the walk through the hangar to the flight office Danyel verbally probed Max as to his reaction to the meeting earlier that day. He was cautious at first until Danyel began to unload and the conversation became involved to the point that they stopped short from earshot of others who might be listening.

It turned out that Danyel suspected a possible intimate relationship which had existed, and might still exist, between Chip Chaplain and the Bickford widow, Mahlah.  Max was stunned. It was not so much in a judgmental way regarding Chip or the Bickford widow, but, if this was true it would raise serious questions. The Bickford Laboratory acquisition was not only proposed by Chip, but it was now being ‘pushed’ by Chip. Upon hearing this startling information Max was non-committal. The last thing he needed right now was more questions to wrestle with. He shook his head, gave her a ‘thanks for the heads up’ quick civilian salute, and Danyel proceeded on her departure to wherever.  On that note Max engaged with Brad on his flight plan to New Haven.

To Max, flying the classic Beechcraft Bonanza was a joy. This older-style aircraft was rebuilt and modernized. It had dual controls and twin engines but it was manageable for a single pilot to fly. It seated four passengers in the rear section of the cabin. The seating for the passengers in the smooth-flying, quiet airplane with the compact but comfortable cabin was, in a sense, like riding as a first class passenger in a commercial airliner, minus the flight attendants.

Max called Maggie along the way, but her cell phone was on answering.  He left a message with his estimated arrival time at Tweed Airport, hoping she would check her voicemail in time to pick him up. Otherwise he could get a cab ride to the apartment.

Max had flown small airplanes enough to relax when at cruising altitude during mild weather conditions. His mind was whirling with the information on Chip which came from Danyel. He wondered if Chip had seen the widow Bickford when he stayed on in Nova Scotia the previous week. He wondered what information he had uncovered, or whether ‘covered-up’ would be more accurate.

“Bravo 66 - contact Ithaca General at 233.4,” abruptly blasted into Max’s headphone. The routine flight-following contact shocked him back to remembering the aviators’ credo.

‘When a person is airborne in, on, or attached to a mechanical flying device, said person is in a constantly hostile environment.’
That meant day-dreaming could prove fatal.

Max responded to the standard flight-following message, then reviewed the instrument panel to check on all flight system indicators. Everything was in order and Max resolved to maintain his concentration on flying until he landed. A buzz from his cell phone produced a text message from Maggie which read, “OK flyboy c u at Tweed”.

Twenty minutes later a touchdown at Tweed Airport was completed. Max taxied the Beechcraft Bravo to the designated parking area and completed the post flight shut-down procedures. It felt good to be back on friendly turf.  An early Martini and a late lunch with Maggie became the next priority for the day.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you some lunch?” was Maggie’s greeting.

“Yes you can, babe,” he responded, “and you can buy me a drink, and you can drive me home, and you can give me a bath, and…”

”Oh shut up and give me a kiss,” Maggie shot back, as they walked to her car with arms around each other’s waist. “You had me at ‘buy me a drink’,” she added.

On the way to Jerry’s Jug, Max asked how the visit with Police Chief Salvadore and the permit request turned out.

“Oh, just peachy,” she retorted sarcastically. “He did agree, but not without the usual nosing around for a motive. I told him that you’d fill him in on the details.”  Not surprised at Maggie’s description, Max thanked her and told her to put it ‘on his tab’, to be paid later. She agreed with a chuckle and let him know that it was going to ‘cost a lot’.

The late lunch actually became their early evening dinner. Their conversation was more serious than their usual custom while dining. It was centered on Max’s uneasy feelings about what had transpired during the Bickford Laboratory market research expeditions. Up until then he had enjoyed getting established as a partner in what he considered to be an interesting, legitimate, and lucrative organization. The physical abuse and peril that he had become subjected to, and to which Maggie had been inadvertently subjected, was one issue. It could have happened to any well-meaning but unaware couple, he supposed. But the idea that he might have been ‘used’ to further a less-than-legitimate request, without the benefit of a briefing on the actual agenda, really ‘pissed him off’. It was something that was common in the military, and/or in politics, with a subordinate who could not be trusted with the complete story. With an equal partner, however, it could only be considered as disingenuous and devious.

Sharing these feelings with Maggie underlined the trust and reliance Max had on her sense of fairness, which they shared. He wanted her feed-back on the matter. Maggie usually felt complimented on his consideration of her opinion and knew that he would seriously consider anything that she offered in terms of direction or advice.

“Since you seem to be asking, I think Chip is a creep,” she offered. “Maybe it’s just me but I get the feeling that he is an aging male, narrow-minded, pig. That might be something that can still allow him to be a good leader of an operation like USAP, but if it was me, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him,” she stated, adding the trite adage, “Just so you know.”

Max appreciated Maggie’s input. Although he didn’t always totally agree, he knew that it came from a keen intuition, a good sense of reasoning, and that it was offered as genuine assistance. He valued that more than anything. It was what made them what they were, two people moving through life, supporting themselves and each other, while providing services to those who would benefit from, and pay for, their expertise.

On the following day, Max’s appointment with his primary care physician actually turned out to be an exam by a physician’s assistant. The doctor had been called to the hospital for an emergency involving another one of his patients. Max could have re-scheduled, but he knew that his doctor would see the test results and would get an accurate physical exam description from the PA. During the exam Max related that his headache on the day before was mild, and he hadn’t had one since. He had no memory of the type of blow to the head he might have suffered since he was drugged at the time.

The PA indicated that there were no detectable contusions and besides the mild headaches there were no further symptoms of a concussion. “
Close enough
,” Max thought silently, “
any negative results or requests for further testing would be relayed to him soon enough
.”

He departed from the appointment satisfied that it was time to get back to work.

Later in the afternoon Max was catching up on odds-and-ends details around the Hargrove House Apartments with the on-call handyman service worker, when a ring tone from his cell phone indicated his doctor was calling. As Max expected, the results showed that everything was normal, physically. He was subjected, however, to an artificially-stern lecture on his decision to fly solo from Lakeside, having not been examined first by a qualified medical person. After thanking him for his concern, Max explained that he realized the physicians’ code required that he pass along the warning. He kiddingly accepted the apology for the doctor’s not being available for the appointment, although the doctor hadn’t offered it. They shared a chuckle and a few pleasantries, and ended the call. Such was the relationship between Max and his Doctor.

The following morning Maggie and Max went to the East Wayford Police Headquarters to meet with Chief Salvadore regarding the requested concealed weapon permits. After keeping them waiting for fifteen minutes, which seemed like an hour, Chief Salvadore made his calculated, exaggerated, importance-styled appearance in the private meeting room.

“Hello you guys,” he said with a noticeably exaggerated friendliness. “I haven’t seen you two together for how long?” he said, extending a rhetorical question to the couple. There was no reply.

After the small talk and thinly-disguised posturing behind his position of authority, Chief Salvatore produced the concealed weapons permits and documents ready for their signatures. He went on at length as to how difficult it was for him to obtain these permits, obviously exaggerating to emphasize the obligation which would be owed by Max and Maggie for this favor.

“Well, thank you Chief,” Max said, rising from the meeting table. “We have an urgent meeting and have to be on our way. We hope to see you soon,” he added, extending his hand as a gesture of appreciation. The Chief escorted them toward the exit and they said their goodbyes.

As they drove off, Maggie and Max were underwhelmed at the transition Salvadore had gone through in his promotion from detective to Chief.

“He hasn’t changed much,” Maggie offered. “It seems to me that he still has that overblown sense of self-importance.”

“We shouldn’t be so hard on him since he did us a favor, but you’re right,” Max responded. “He was humbled at being promoted back then, but I can see it’ll take some time for him to get used to handling himself as Chief of Police. I can’t help wondering how the patrol staff deals with it.”

Since they were successful in procuring the permits, max suggested a drive east to a hobby-and-gun shop in the neighboring town of Sheffield. The shop was located on a side lane which crossed the main country road at the junction where it passed through the Village center of Sheffield. The shop, actually looking more like a shack, was nestled in a grove of oak trees behind a gravel horseshoe-shaped driveway. The small store, operated by an older gentleman known locally as ‘Constable Bill’, was approximately twelve feet by twelve feet with a shed style roof. It had rough-cut wide plank siding with a wood shake-shingled roof which extended over a country porch. A rustic sign hanging off the porch roof read, “The Tool Shed”.

Max had been referred there by Everet ‘Doc’ Franklin, Sheffield’s First Selectman, who assigned Constable Bill to maintain the peace on an as-needed basis. As Max and Maggie entered the shop they were greeted by Bill, a huge sixty-something man, who appeared a little taller due to his high-heeled boots and crumpled western-style Stetson hat. He was expecting them and, although most of the armament for sale displayed in the shop consisted of shotguns and small caliber rifles, he swung open a hinged portion of the sales countertop which presented to them a surprisingly broad array of modern automatic pistols and lightweight revolvers. He watched silently as the two ‘city folks’ hefted and handled several pistols, answering questions when asked and making suggestions when appropriate.

Max settled on a Model G17 9mm Glock model which weighed only 22.3 ounces along with two 11-cartridge ammo clips. He had been impressed with the reliability, accuracy, and smooth re-loading action of the Glock, back when he tested a captured firearm during his military days.

Maggie chose a 12-ounce ultra-lightweight, titanium-frame Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum snub-nosed revolver. She had fired an auto-loading Glock during her college days when she was taught and trained by a former boyfriend. Now, however, her choice was the light, easy-to-conceal revolver, which had a short range but discharged a powerful cartridge. It was ideal for a primarily defensive weapon.

Both weapons were pricey, but popular, all-around modern-day choices.  With the pistols, ammo clips, and belt holster for him, a thigh holster for her, along with three boxes of cartridges, they paid the appreciative Constable Bill, and bid him adieu.

The next stop on the agenda was a shooting academy in Wallington, a town approximately 10 miles north on interstate route 91. It was a recently opened modern facility which used the latest technology in sound abatement. It had eco-friendly exhaust and lead abatement systems, and ultrasonic weapon cleaners. Professional weaponry technicians were available for firearm instruction and training. Local municipal police departments contracted for practice and the general public was invited to frequent the facility on an hourly rental basis. Lockers for private weapons, ammunition and shooting apparatus were available to rent on a quarterly basis.

Max and Maggie were fortunate to arrive at a time which allowed the use of two adjacent firing stations which required a short wait. Ear protectors were required and were provided with the hourly rental fee. The coffee and snack bar came in handy to the pair of shooters for a late lunch of packaged peanut butter crackers and coffees, which filled in their 15 minute waiting time for the assigned shooting stations.

Max had appraised the facility for the construction financing three years earlier and was familiar with the features and layout. Maggie was amazed at how quiet the rental desk and snack lounge areas were.

Head-set ear protection was required in order to gain entry to the firing area. Entry was via a locked, soundproofed door, which was managed by an on-duty range marshal. Once inside, the deafening thunder of constantly exploding cartridges coming from the row of twenty firing stations, when blocked from hearing by the ear cups, meant that shoulder taps and hand signals were the best means of communication.

Once Max activated an electronically-distanced target on the digital key pad at Maggie’s station, he set the distance at 25 feet. He set his own target at 40 feet. The distances were to accommodate the accuracy ranges for the 2.5 inch barrel on her revolver and the 5 inch barrel on his auto-loader. They attached their targets on their respective overhead target clips and pushed the ‘enter’ buttons. Each target rolled out on an automated cable-pulley system to its pre-set distance.

Max practiced rapid firing, ejecting the empty clip, reinserting the spare clip, and rapid firing again. Then his pistol would cool slightly while he re-filled the two ammo clips and repeated the sequence. After four sequences within 11 minutes of firing, he had expended 52 rounds of 9 millimeter ammunition. He then had to set his pistol aside to allow the firing chamber and barrel to cool.

Ten minutes later, Maggie had had enough. She had fired 5 rounds, ejected the empty casings, re-loaded, and fired off another 5 rounds. She had repeated that for five sequences. After approximately twenty five minutes she had expended 25 rounds of .357 caliber magnum ammunition. She entered ‘retraction’ on her digital pad and pulled the heavy-weight paper target from the target clamp. Max also retracted and detached his target and, after gathering up the shooting paraphernalia, they both left the firing area together.