Full Disclosure (33 page)

“You know how to set the stage, Ann,” Paul said.

“Now you'll be glad when I get you safely in the air. On a lighter note, the snacks and beverages on this flight are top drawer and fair game, so help yourself. The purpose of this flight is a visual survey of the grave sites, so I will be flying at a low altitude for most of the flight. I will give a two-minute alert as we come to each location. There are two planned stops today, the first one in about six hours. I hope you enjoy the flight. I know I'm going to have a nice day flying this gorgeous plane.”

Ann walked forward and settled into the cockpit.

Minutes later the engines were started. The plane pulled slowly from the hangar and turned toward the taxiway. After a pause and when they were cleared for takeoff, Ann turned onto the runway and began to pick up speed. Paul saw Sam and Rita both at windows, scanning the sky looking for birds, while Vicky and Reece relaxed in their chairs, conversing quietly about a mutual friend. The flight lifted off so smoothly, Paul didn't feel them leave the ground.

Paul spread out the map of the Midwest, marked with the victims' burial sites. Ann had added small numbered Post-it notes to show the order they would pass over the sites.

Forty minutes after the flight began, Vicky's phone vibrated with a message, and she walked forward to join Ann in the cockpit. She returned and announced, “Out the east windows, coming up in two minutes, will be the burial site for victim six.”

They flew over the area, and Paul got his first look at what this killer defined as a proper dumping ground. Thick, mature
trees, a country road, isolated, not a house within sight even from the air. He hadn't stumbled on a place like this just by pulling off the highway and driving into the countryside. He had spent some time to locate this area. Paul made notes on the burial site.

Ten minutes later they passed over another one. More trees, and isolated, hard-to-reach terrain. A hunter would wander those woods, wildlife, but it was isolated ground. The victims had been buried too deep to have an animal disturb the remains, or a heavy rain dislodge the body.

The day passed in a grim progression of burial sites, each one more remarkable than the last for how similar they looked from the air. The chief of staff had been a planner. He had wanted his victims to remain secure until he chose to reveal their locations. None of the eighteen had been found before he wished them to be found. The sites were yet another taste of the control he had wanted to exert over his victims.

Vicky came back from the cockpit. “Ann says we'll be landing at Columbus in ten minutes. It will be a half-hour stop, depending on the refueling time, but enough time to walk around. Any changes you need her to make to the flight plan, this is the time to say so.”

“Her plan is fine. We're getting what we need,” Paul assured Vicky after a quick glance around at the team.

The second leg of the trip took them across more grave locations and then toward the cabin site. Late in the day, Vicky came back from the cockpit carrying a hand-sketched map. “The cabin is about ten minutes ahead. Ann will fly over the site, then circle to the airport, and we will drive to the cabin.” She held up the map. “Here's the lake. The cabin is on the north side of this inlet, back from the shore about fifty feet. Watch for where the water and shoreline start to look like the letter
Y
, and you'll have the area.”

Ann brought the flight in low enough that Paul could clearly see the leaves on the treetops and the water shining bright below them. They flew toward the inlet. The area of the cabin was remarkable for what it was. Isolated, heavily wooded, with only one access road coming to a dead end. Ann banked and turned toward the airport. Paul saw only two fishing boats visible on the water.

Ann landed the aircraft with such skill he didn't feel the wheels touch down. She taxied to a private area of the airport, turned the plane in a tight circle, and came to a stop lined up along the taxi ramp.

Paul was thinking about how to suggest that Ann stay with the plane rather than join them for the drive to the cabin. But when Reece came back with keys for two rental cars, Ann walked with Vicky to the second car. Paul hesitated, but decided it was best she make her own decision.

Reece drove, making the trip from memory and not even needing to glance at a map. Paul watched him, aware of the tension in the man. They hadn't sat down for an interview yet—Paul intentionally keeping it for a later date. The VP had been a victim, and Paul understood the man's instincts to hide what had happened. Reece was the man who had decided not to push back against the idea of a cover-up. Paul wasn't sure yet that he fully understood Reece's thinking, or his motives.

The dirt road leading to the site wandered through heavy trees, in places nearly impassable from washouts over the years. Reece slowed and pointed. “There's the cabin site, up ahead near that cluster of white pines.”

Reece scanned the road and chose a place to park where he could turn around later. Vicky pulled in and parked beside him. Paul could see the lake now, the sunlight flickering off the water. The dock on the lake still stood. They all got out of the vehicles.

Paul glanced at Ann. She was talking with Vicky, all but ignoring the scene. He was relieved when Ann stayed leaning against the car while they walked to the grown-over remains of the cabin.

Paul stood at what would have been the cabin's front door, and he listened. There was only the faint sound of a motor on the water. He could hear no traffic. There were few indications of civilization. The chief of staff had not been one to take chances. He had fully believed he could leave the diary writer here for two days while he went to get the VP.

This place had been carefully scouted out and selected. Though isolated, it was on a lake where people came and went. He hadn't chosen a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. A car being seen here would not attract attention. Maybe that was enough of a reason. A too-remote area would mean a car parked over a week would draw attention, but here a car coming and going would not be noteworthy.

“Let's go down to the dock and see the lake,” Paul said.

Ann leaned against the car, waiting with Vicky and watching as the others walked down to the lake. She glanced over to her friend once she was sure they were out of earshot. “Paul knows, or he suspects. I'm the only one the VP told in nine years? Paul's asked the question. He's too good an investigator not to have asked. The question is, why hasn't he asked me?”

“He doesn't want to put you in a position of having to answer,” Vicky guessed, her voice soft.

“Maybe. Probably.”

“What will you say if he does ask?”

Ann shrugged. “There are a lot of shades of not answering. I can simply not answer and still confirm whatever he wants to know.”

“However you answer, you'll confirm what he already knows.”

“Yes. But the whole truth is going to go to my grave.”

“He's strong enough to know the truth, Ann.”

“I'm not strong enough to tell him.” The silence stretched between them. “I'm glad you came along.”

“So am I. You want to talk about it?”

“There's nothing new to say.”

“You would have been better off if you had accepted the VP's offer to write a chapter of your own. If everyone knows, you wouldn't need to look at someone and wonder.”

“The only thing the truth does is give people more to gossip about. I still wish the VP had let this go to his grave. It's another crime. The world already knows plenty of crimes.”

“You know it's not that simple.”

“It could be that simple. Gannett doesn't want to see God with a lie on his conscience.”

“Would you?”

“Depends on how many people I had to tell in order to clear my conscience. There's telling one person, and there's telling millions. The public is going to be fascinated with the story, and the families of the victims are going to have to deal with the press, and the money the book brings in for them is going to only partially offset the staggering impact they will have to absorb. The victims were in the way of the chief of staff's master plan to have the VP one day become president. They were killed because the chief of staff blamed them for what they did or didn't do during a campaign. These were senseless murders done for stupid reasons, and the diary just shows how twisted the chief of staff really was inside. The details of the truth serve little purpose, Vicky. That's the sad part of this. It ends a cover-up, but the truth doesn't benefit anyone. It's just another crime.”

“I know. The sad thing is Gannett would have been a good president. Had he never met his chief of staff, maybe that would have been what he achieved eventually.”

“When it comes down to it, the outcome of most people's lives hinges on only a few decisions. The VP will be remembered in large part for his wrong choice of a friend and employee.”

Ann saw the group returning and reached over to open the passenger door. “When we fly back, would you come join me up front? I'd rather not have Paul come forward to carry on a
conversation about flying or whatever else he chooses to bring up. I'm moody today, and it shows.”

“Sure. And I don't mind moody.”

Ann tried a smile. “You're too good a friend to say so if you did.”

Paul stretched his legs out, grateful the plane didn't crowd them together like a commercial flight. The day had been long and was still an hour from being over. They had accomplished what he had hoped—they'd seen the eighteen burial sites and the cabin. He looked over to Sam and Rita. “What did you notice about all the burial sites?”

“Rural terrain, mature, thick trees, a winding country road passing near the site,” Sam said without a pause. “He had a destination in mind before he grabbed his victim. He didn't find those sites by chance. He planned them out.”

“Looking at his schedule, can we figure out when he had time to do that? Was he choosing the sites in the days just before the abductions, or was he doing that kind of planning weeks or months before the abduction?”

“We can look at that. The diary suggests a familiarity with their lives. But the chief of staff is a known person. He couldn't have been in an area very often and not have been noticed and remembered. Same with the burial sites.”

“Are the two of you up to visiting the VP's vacation home tomorrow? Ann said we could fly out early in the morning and be there by midafternoon. I'd like to get this done.”

Rita smiled. “A trip to Florida is no hardship, boss.”

T
he VP's vacation home in Florida was on the water, a residence kept private by a tall, white stone wall and a break wall protecting a private cove from the open ocean. The Atlantic waters rolled with chop farther out, but the cove was a perfect place to swim and large enough even to sail. Ann flew over the property so they could see it from the air, then turned toward the nearby airport. They arrived back at the estate by car just after three p.m. Reece introduced them to the private security protecting the estate.

Paul sent Sam and Rita to walk through the house and get overview photos of the layout while he walked with Reece toward the boat dock and the water. It was a beautiful cove, with sandy shores and calm waters rippling under a nice breeze, which helped to cool the heat of the sun.

“The VP said he was heading toward the open water but had not yet passed the break wall when the chief of staff pulled a gun, turned them back to shore, and abducted him.”

“Right. The chief of staff put them ashore on the far side of the cove”—Reece pointed—“there, by that lone tree. He had parked his car in the turnaround area.”

“Where did the boat end up?”

“The chief of staff put the boat on autopilot and sent it back
through the break wall and into the open waters. Once it cleared the break wall, the boat was taken by the current almost two miles out where it was found drifting.”

A boat was moored at the floating dock. “Is that the same boat?”

“A newer model, but the size and cabin layout are close to being the same.”

Paul walked down to check it out. “Tell me, Reece, about that day, about what you thought when you realized the VP was missing.”

“I was with his wife attending a flower show, where she was making a few public remarks. We returned to the house, and the VP wasn't there to meet her. He made it a point to be on hand when she got back from a public event, to ask how it had gone, to thank her for attending. I had known them both for years. It was a mainstay of their relationship, that small courtesy of his to be there for his wife. He knew she wasn't comfortable with public events, and it was the reason he had sent me to travel with her that day. I immediately knew when we walked in the door and the VP wasn't there to meet her that something was wrong.

“The boat had GPS on it, and it showed the boat moving slowly in the area he normally fished. He didn't answer a radio call. We went out by another boat to see if he was having problems. Before long we found his boat, drifting and empty. The fishing gear was out. The public was told it was a boating accident, but we were working it as several things: a foreign agency had snatched him, a kidnapping for ransom, a heart attack that caused him to fall into the water and drown.

“When the VP called me from the cabin, the ocean search had been under way for seven hours. By the time I got him from the cabin back to Florida, it was three o'clock in the morning. We used the drifting tides to create a story that put him in the water and had him drift into shore about four miles north of the house. The story we used was he had seen debris in the water, thought it was from a capsized vessel, and had been retrieving
a piece that had writing on it when he'd gotten into trouble and had fallen into the water. The current had pushed him into shore, but the surf had beaten him up on the rocks as he came ashore.

“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.”