Desperate Measures (19 page)

“Right, and shortly thereafter Michael Holmes ceased to exist,” Tomas informed the FBI Director.

“Michael Holmes, he’s…”

“Yep, and I ran a check on him. He’s had no driver’s license, W-2 filed, or bank account. Nothing in ten years.”

“Tomas, we have cause to pull Ian in for questioning. I’ll send someone out to his house right now. There’s no way he’s getting on that plane tomorrow. You better round up whatever coverage you need when that plane lands, in case he pulls another disguise. By the way, I don’t say this often enough but good job. If your hunch is right, we’ll have this bastard tonight.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet,” Tomas countered, “but I do hope you get him. I have a nagging suspicion he’s still a step ahead of us. Frank, if he slips by us there’s no way in hell he’ll be on the Nevis flight. I have a feeling we’re still missing something. Let me know when you have him.”

“I will,” Frank promised.

Tomas studied the reports until his eyes burned, the throb in his ankle and head intensified. He knew he was on track but a sixth sense told him he’d missed something important. He looked at the photos of Michael Holmes and Ian Yates side by side. Doubt clouded his theory and his hope faded. Ian wouldn’t make it into custody tonight. He wouldn’t make it that easy.

Tomas organized and copied what he needed and prepared to return to the hotel. He briefed Drew about tomorrow’s Nevis flight. As a precaution all St. Kitts flights were under scrutiny as well.

Tomas entered the suite to find Caitlin dressed in typical beach attire, a wraparound brightly colored skirt and midriff tank top, ready for the bonfire. Alexandra jumped around, her two ponytails flopping with each bounce. Scott stepped out from the kitchen with an anxious look on his face.

Tomas nodded and forced a smile. He disappeared to his room. The tension and anger must’ve been evident on his face. Scott barged into the room, sat on the bed with his arms across his chest. Tomas prolonged the suspense and took his time changing into a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. He washed his face and reached for a bath towel.

Scott broke the silence. “Spit it out, what happened? You found something didn’t you?” Scott demanded.

“Yup. Ian Yates is hopefully being picked up as we speak.”

“Who the hell is Ian Yates?” Scott questioned. His tone and facial expression seemed sincere.

Tomas was pissed and not in the mood for any games. Scott could’ve saved them a lot of time if he’d been open at the start of all this shit.

“Scott, I’m not going to play who’s who. If I’m right, Ian Yates is Michael Holmes. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about him? I had to read it in your background check.”

“Michael Holmes? He’s behind this? No.”

“Yes! He disappeared ten years ago, around the same time Ian Yates left the electronics company he worked for. Michael worked for the same damn company, it burned to the ground and killed ten people.”

Scott leaned over and spoke in a quiet tone. “Look, I was as surprised as you were to read what came back in the FBI check on Caitlin before we got married. I didn’t even think about him during all of this.”

Tomas loomed over Scott, more perturbed than he was before. “Let me guess! Caitlin has no idea who Michael really is, does she? “

“She never saw the completed report so Caitlin doesn’t know. Every time I tried to bring up the subject with Jack he shut down or changed the topic, typical of him. He most likely knows I’m aware of Michael but hasn’t acknowledged it,” Scott answered with a look of defeat.

Frustrated, Tomas threw the towel across the room. “You know what? All of you are fucked up with these family deceptions! Your wife is targeted by a potential killer but everyone’s more concerned about keeping deep dark secrets. Well I’m done. My priority is to keep your wife alive.

“Don’t worry, buddy, I won’t spill your secret. I’ll leave that up to you and you better tell her the truth, and I mean all of the truth for once. By the way, Jack has Barry tracking down Michael Holmes too.” Tomas slammed his bedroom door and walked out into the living room area.

Caitlin jumped up from the couch to confront Tomas. “What was that about? Did you make any headway on the passenger?”

“Yes, the suspect will be in custody soon, his name is Ian Yates and I think Michael Holmes has assumed his identity.”

Pam and Chris perked up at the mention of the name but Caitlin’s face remained unchanged. Tomas ignored the sympathy boiling to the surface in response to her reaction. He didn’t elaborate on Michael’s background but gave a sketchy outline of his suspicions.

“Really?” Caitlin gasped. “What do these men have to do with me?”

To avoid a lie, Tomas shrugged his shoulders and remained silent. Chad and Alexandra bounded into the room, providing a distraction. He scooped Alexandra into his arms and ruffled Chad’s hair. “How about we go to that bonfire?”

“Yeah!” the kids cheered together.

“I want to see the guy that swallows the fire sword,” Chad exclaimed.

“Dance, dance, me want to dance,” Alexandra chanted as she squirmed out of Tomas’s arms and grabbed his hand, leading him to the door.

Tomas cast a glance over his shoulder. Scott walked out of the bedroom. His face fluctuated with expressions of shame, embarrassment, and fear. Tomas berated himself for being selfishly pleased but his boss had omitted critical details and deserved the emotional trauma he experienced. The Assistant Director of the FBI should be a leader, set an example, and earn the respect of his staff. In Tomas’ opinion, Scott had failed all three of those requirements.

* * * *

Daniel sat on the couch watching TV while Amy rested in the bedroom, as the doctor ordered. The phone rang, he glanced at the incoming number and clicked the talk button. “Dad, all okay with the hurricane and Caitlin?”

“So far on both counts but the way this hurricane’s moving I’m a little worried. Would it be all right if I send your mother and brother up to stay with you for a few days until this thing blows over?” Jack asked.

“Dad, why do you even ask? Of course. What about you? If this thing makes a direct hit at the speed they’re predicting, you better not be anywhere close by.”

“Don’t worry about me. I need to put our shutters up and make sure Caitlin’s house is hunkered down. I’ll go over to Murray’s. He lives in Lake Placid in the center of the state, so it should be pretty safe there. You remember Murray, don’t you?”

“Dad, how could I forget Murray? He’s your best friend besides Barry. Is he still a neat freak?”

“Yeah, but he’ll have to get over that if I need to take refuge with him.” Jack laughed.

“Isn’t that the truth? Caitlin and Dean take after you when it comes to cooking and cleaning. You consider a turkey sandwich a gourmet meal, right?”

“There’s nothing wrong with a turkey sandwich. It’s even better when you eat it over the counter on a paper towel. No dishes to clean up.”

“Nope nothing wrong with that, Dad, but get up here with Dean and Mom. I’m the cook in our family and I’ll make you a real gourmet meal. Even before Amy went on bed rest I was the cook but wouldn’t trade my wife for anything in the world.”

“Oh, Daniel. How are Amy and the baby?” Jack asked with deep sorrow and concern etched in his voice.

“So far so good. The baby’s vitals are strong. Unfortunately Amy’s blood pressure is still high but the doctor doesn’t want to induce labor. He wants to wait until she’s at least thirty-eight weeks, which will be Monday. Mom will be in her glory being here when her new grandchild is born. She does know about Amy’s condition, right? I know we agreed not to worry Mom but she needs to know by the time she gets up here.”

“I told her yesterday. She’s worried of course but at ease somewhat since Amy’s almost full term. I’ll keep you updated about your mother and twin’s itinerary if they come up to Atlanta. Are you sure you’re up for houseguests with what you’re going through?” Jack asked the question for further reassurance.

“Are you kidding me, Dad? My house is big enough. We’ll never run into each other and Mom will be here to relieve me from meal making duty. Dean, on the other hand, can sit and talk to Amy while I’m at work. She always laughs at his stupid jokes.”

“Thanks, Son, I’ll keep you informed.”

“Okay, Dad. Bye.”

Tomas remained silent, as did Scott, on the short ride to the famous St. Kitts Friday night bonfire. Their silence created a tense atmosphere. If Chad and Alexandra hadn’t argued over who was going to sit next to whom at dinner, the car would’ve been as silent as a tomb. The seating arrangement debate over, they entered the beachside establishment.

Tomas observed the crowd, it appeared as if every resident and tourist were present. Tomas put his anger aside for the time being and spoke to Scott in a civil tone. “I don’t think this is such a good idea. There are too many people here. Look at the bar. They’re lined up shoulder to shoulder. Caitlin could be snagged in a minute.”

“We’ve got every base covered and Drew sent over extra manpower. Just keep your eyes open. If he isn’t already in custody, maybe we can flush him out if he’s still here.”

Tomas wasn’t as optimistic as Scott but followed the group to a perfect table, situated in front of the band and stage where all the action would begin later in the evening. They browsed the menu while trucks, loaded with wood and kerosene, rolled onto the beach to start the preparations for the bonfire after sunset.

Tomas had heard about the spectacular sunset so often, he could write a descriptive essay on the subject. ‘At this time of year, the sunset from this beach was the most exquisite view. When the sun lowered into the Caribbean Sea a brilliant green flash reached across the open water for miles. When this optical light show occurred, the flash was so bright, it appeared as if dawn had approached, rather than night falling.’ Drew’s men stationed themselves around the beach bar/restaurant and dance floor.

During dinner, the flame-throwers, stilt dancers, and Kittian Clowns performed their acts. Alexandra clapped, cheered, and ignored her charbroiled hot dog. Chad ate not only his whole grilled lobster, but what his mother left on her plate, too.

The bonfire roared and the calypso band started to play. Caitlin leaped from her chair when she heard the first note. She was on the dance floor when the speakers resonated with the infamous sound of, “It’s Electric!”

Everyone on duty jumped at Caitlin’s sudden disappearance onto the dance floor.

“Son of a bitch!” Tomas growled at Scott. “Does she always have to run off like that? For Chrissakes, we lost her. I told you I didn’t like this crowd!”

“I see her, she’s over there and Mitch is right by her.”

Tomas looked where Scott pointed and Caitlin turned to wave an ‘everything’s okay’ sign as she swayed and shuffled to the song. Nothing was going to happen. She wasn’t going anywhere. In a synchronized move, Tomas and Scott swiveled. Their raised thumbs sent a message of reassurance; they had Caitlin in sight, everything’s fine, no need to panic. The twenty or so seconds it took for their hand signals to assure the surrounding security personnel were costly, maybe deadly.

* * * *

“God dammit! She’s gone, I don’t see her!” Scott screamed into the small microphone clipped to his shirt collar. Drew and everyone else were equipped with state of the art communication devices. They jumped into action and scattered in various directions.

Drew barked orders.

Tomas ran off to the last spot they’d seen Caitlin. He pushed everyone in his path away, still no sign of her. Where the hell did she go?

A few minutes later, the lead singer of the band made a special announcement. “Ello mons, hope you’re having a good time tonight enjoin de music an everyding! I jus got a note dat de last song was dedicated to Aces. Now let’s party some more! Who’s got more requests?”

The singer barely had time to sing the first note of the next song before Chris and Pam surrounded him. “Where’s the note?” Chris gripped the singer’s arm.

The music stopped. The audience, curious over the happenings on stage, didn’t mind the interruption of the song.

“Here Mon. What’s de problem?” The flustered singer held out a crumpled piece of paper.

Chris grabbed the note. “Who gave this to you?”

“One of de waitresses, she said some guy wanted us to play it for someone special.”

“Which waitress? You better tell me now. Someone’s life may depend on it,” Chris threatened.

“Okay, okay. She’s right over dere, de one with de short curly hair.”

* * * *

When a firm hand gripped her wrist and pulled her onto the sandy beach, fear surged through Caitlin, and then the announcement from the band turned her blood to ice. Terrified and numb, she could barely function, probably in shock.

She screamed, “Who the hell are you? Someone help me please!” She looked at her surroundings in panic. No one would hear her over the noise of the crowd.

The grip on her wrist loosened, she broke free and looked at the person that had led her off of the dance floor. Caitlin’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. She gasped.

“Caitlin, don’t be afraid. Don’t you remember me? I’m not trying to hurt you.”

She realized who stood before her and exclaimed, “Oh my God! Jumpstart, it’s you? You scared the hell out of me. Why did you frighten me like that?”

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just guided you away from the dance floor. What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing. A lot’s happened since we arrived on Monday. What about you, the last couple of trips you were nowhere to be found. Mel said you moved to St. Martin and opened up your own beach bar?” Caitlin, embarrassed that she panicked earlier, ran a finger through her disheveled hair.

“I did and it’s quite successful, especially when the cruise ships come in. I named it ‘Jumpstart’s Station’.”

“Cute, I like the name.” Caitlin chuckled.

“Now I need to ask you something. Did you like the dedication to the last song and why are you called Aces?”