Rise of The Iron Eagle (The Iron Eagle Series Book 1) (23 page)

She explained about Walter, the months of hospital visits, and the endless requests for a date. She told John who Walter was, and he told her that Walter sounded like a very determined suitor. She nodded. “I don’t know how to explain it, John. He’s a very handsome man, a lot older than me, sixty five. One of my colleagues is pressing me to take him up on his offer, and now he has pressed the hospital board into giving me a blank check offer and basically the keys to the ER as the Chief of Staff.” “So, what’s the problem?” “I can’t put my finger on it,” she said, “but there’s something about him that bothers me.” John placed his napkin on the table and looked her straight in the eye. “In as much detail as you can tell me, what it is that bothers you?” She shuddered a little. “I don’t know, John. The guy has been coming into my ER for months and never told me who he was. As far as I knew, he was just some guy looking for attention. Then about three months ago, he started wooing me with all kinds of flattery and requests for dates. One of my friends and colleagues, Stephanie, is all over me about the guy, telling me to date him, and reminding me how beautiful I am. I get tired of the same old lines, John. I want a man to recognize me as an intellect instead of a body or face. I want what Amber used to tell me about your relationship. The way you two met and fell in love. I want that so bad.” She could see both the happiness and sadness in his face as he spoke. “We met because of you, Sara. Have you forgotten that?” She pushed the food around her plate and told him to ignore her, that she was just overtired and malnourished.

He sat back against the booth and asked, “Seriously, tell me more about the guy.” Sara told him about Walter’s position and influence, the frequency of his visits, including today’s. “He was in the ER with you this morning?” “Yes. Why?” “What does he look like?” “Six foot, black hair, deep brown eyes. He has a muscular build for a man of his age.” “You’ve seen him naked?” “I’m a doctor, John. He’s come in as a patient, so, yes, I’ve seen him naked.” “Does he have any markings, birthmarks, tattoos, piercings, things like that?” “John, you know I’m not supposed to divulge that information on a patient. There are laws, you know.” “Yea…but he tipped his hand on those laws when he disclosed that he is basically your employer, and he’s done things that, in my opinion, rise to the level of sexual harassment.” “You know… Marty had a similar reaction when I told him the things that Walter had done; however Marty really downplayed it, telling me that he’s a smart businessman and knows talent when he sees it. That’s why the new offer.” “Did you ask Marty if the offer would still be on the table if you rebuffed Mr. Cruthers’ advances?” “Yes. And he said that he would speak to Walter and asked me to at least think about their offer until Monday.” “Hmm…” “What?” “You didn’t answer my question about body marks.” “He has a tattoo on his left upper arm, ‘USMC’ with a bulldog underneath it.” “So he was in the Corps…interesting.” “What do you mean?” “That tattoo is a common tattoo that Marines get after boot camp.” “You were a Marine. Do you have a tattoo?” “No… not my thing. But based on his age, he would have been eighteen right around the time the Vietnam war was ending; he could have been on the ground at the close of the war.” “Are you thinking PTSD?” “Who knows…what we do know is he’s very wealthy, and he’s got his eye on you.”

“What do you think I should do, John?” He sat up straight in his seat. “Sara, I can’t answer that question objectively. It sounds to me like they are offering you a lot of cash and security to stay on the job. I would have to give that real consideration given the state of the medical industry today.” She smiled a half-hearted smile and said, “I wish Amber was here. She would know what to do.” He smiled, “If Amber was here, you wouldn’t be questioning any of this.” She laughed a little under her breath and said, “Okay, mister, enough about me. What about you? Seeing anybody?” “He laughed and told her he saw people all the time. “Okay, smart ass.” He shook his head. “I have a question to ask you then.” “Shoot.” “If I decide to stay with Northridge, how would you feel about seeing me again?” John was taken totally by surprise. “Umm… wow… why would you want to date me again? I’m a cop, and you made it clear you wouldn’t be involved with a cop.” She looked at him with a look of passion, “Because you know me inside out, because your wife and I were best friends, and we all hung out together ALL THE TIME! Because you never once looked at me in a way that was longing for just my body. You respected my mind. And the main reason is because seeing you again brought back so much to me. I remember introducing you to Amber while we were dating. As for your line of work, I’ve grown up a lot since the early years. I’m not saying I’m ready to dive in head first with a cop, but if there is any cop I would like to try it with it’s you.”

He smiled and pulled her hands across the table to his. “That’s why I reminded you of it; it’s also a big part of why I moved away after Amber’s murder. Every time I looked at you, I saw her, and it was killing me. But the years have helped that feeling, and, to be honest, seeing you again has made me feel so good. You’re like a breath of fresh air I haven’t had in my life for a long time. My love for Amber is something I will probably never be able to express in words. But Amber also knew, and she reminded me often, just how much you meant to me. She wasn’t jealous; she made that clear, but I can’t tell you how many times she would ask me why you and I broke up. She thought we were good together, and she could see the love I still had for you. I have never told that to another soul. She knew that I still had a deep love for you, and she encouraged that love on a platonic level. That’s why I left so soon after Amber’s death. I couldn’t face the memory of her that I saw every time I looked in your eyes.” Sara was misty-eyed when he finished. “Okay, thanks for making me cry again. Amber knew about my feelings for you, and we agreed and promised each other never to speak of them except with each other. But I did confide in her that I was jealous when you two hooked up because I was deeply in love with you. I also confessed that the reason I pushed you away was my fear of your occupation. I couldn’t bear the thought of a day when you might walk out the door for the very last time and what words might or might not have been spoken in that last conversation.” “The perils of police work. Amber never got used to it, but we also never parted without saying ‘I love you,’ and that is the one thing that I have had some cold comfort in is that those were the last words I spoke to her the night she went missing.”

The waitress brought the check, John threw some cash on the table, and the two of them got up. He walked her out to her car where they paused. “Whether you decide to stay or to take the job in San Diego, I would like to start seeing you again.” She smiled. “That makes me so happy.” He held her face in his hands, and she took his face in her hands and kissed him ever so gently. “I have to pull another seventy-two hour shift this weekend, but I will be off next Wednesday through Saturday. Let’s try spending some time together!” “I have a ton of vacation time, so I’ll put in for those days next week. I’ll give you a call and let you know if there are any issues. You still have your house on Gothic in Granada Hills?” She nodded. “Then I will give you a call over the weekend, and if all goes well I will see you again next Wednesday.” He gently hugged her tiny frame and gave her another gentle kiss before they parted ways. He watched as she drove out onto Roscoe.

When she was out of sight, he opened his police computer and typed in the license plate number of the Mercedes that had almost caused the crash when they arrived at the restaurant. Just a few seconds later, the information appeared on his screen: ‘Walter Erickson Cruthers. 1 Cliffside Drive. Malibu, California. No wants or warrants.’ John closed the lid to the computer and turned out onto Fallbrook headed toward Highway 101, which would take him to Malibu Canyon Road, PCH, Cliffside Dr., and finally, Cruthers’ home.

Chapter Twenty

He had taken a bite of his sandwich
when results of the scans started to
pop up on the screen. He looked
at the screen in confusion.

S
teve got to the office at half past nine, and no one said a word. He walked in, got a cup of coffee, went to his office, and shut the door. He looked over at the cork boards and the photographs on each. Janet’s case file was in the center of his desk with “SOLVED” stamped in bold red ink on it. He felt his rage growing and grabbed the glass globe paperweight off his desk and threw it with his full force and fury against the wall. It shattered upon impact. There wasn’t a sound outside his door.

Jim left Barbara’s house without saying goodbye. He knew that they understood where they were at, and he would speak to her again tonight. He wanted to let her sleep as she’d been through enough. He let out a little laugh as he was getting off the 405 Freeway at Wilshire, “The Eagle has no idea how lucky he is she didn’t get a hold of any part of his anatomy.” He pulled into police parking and went up to Steve’s office. The first thing he noticed was the quiet. The second thing was that everyone was staring at him. He got to Steve’s door and knocked, but there was no response. He turned the handle and saw him sitting at his desk. He turned to the quiet staring staff and yelled, “What? You’ve never seen a man who’s paying a shitload of alimony to an ex-wife who was kidnapped by a serial killer and left alive, and he’s happy about it?” Nothing but stoic faces. “On second thought, it is strange that I would be happy about it…think of all the alimony I could have saved if he had just done his job. Shit.” He snapped his fingers raising his right leg in the air in a motion of disappointment and walked into Steve’s office.

Shards of glass littered the entryway. Jim walked through the broken glass and said, “Doing some redecorating, I see.” “I forgot that my walls are concrete.” “And don’t forget bullet proof.” The exchange wasn’t meant as humor so much as a way for the two men to let down their hair after the harrowing night before. Everyone and everything they held dear was, for a brief moment, taken from them. They didn’t have to say it; it was implied in their demeanor. They were very fortunate that The Eagle didn’t kill their loved ones. “What’s with the file?” Jim asked. Steve slid it across the desk; Jim looked at it and slid it back. “Fuck ‘em…fuck the whole bunch of ‘em!” Jim took a cigarette out of his top pocket and put it in his mouth. “Have you called John?” Steve asked flatly. “Naw…he’s a rookie. This isn’t up his alley. Besides, it’s not his goddamn jurisdiction.” “I’m going to call him in for a formal interview, Jim.” “Then why ask if I made the damn call?” He shrugged. “I knew you would. When?” “Well…I figure I should probably have the janitorial service clean up the glass first.” “I see.” “Do me a favor.” He wasn’t making eye contact with Jim, just looking off into space somewhere out his window. “Sure.” “Call John and ask him to email me his résumé.” “No problem.”

Jim called John and made the request on Steve’s behalf. He rattled off Steve’s email address and made sure that John had written it down. “When can you get that emailed?” “It’s current, Jim. I can ask HR downtown to email it over to Agent Hoffman now. He’ll have it in five minutes.” “Hang on John,” Jim said without covering the mouthpiece. “Hey shithead! John says you’ll have his résumé in five minutes. I figure since I have him on the line, when do you want to interview him?” John could hear the whole conversation. “What time is it?” “Ten.” “See if he can meet me here in my office at three.” “Hey, John, you get that?” “Sure…I’m on duty until eight, but I will take my dinner break to meet with him.” “He said okay.” There was a moment of silence followed by a muffled conversation. “Okay John. Agent Hoffman will see you at three. Oh…and don’t wear your dress uniform, just come in whatever you’re wearing in the field, okay?” “Yes sir.” “Your dress uniform freaks us out.” “Are you going to be there, detective?” “That’s a hell of a question…Steve, am I going to be here? John’s asking.” Silence. “Well, John, based on the lack of response, I would say…what the fuck. I’ll be here. See you at three.” He hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. “That’s a hell of a good call, Steve. This kid’s got fuckin’ ESP or something.” “I have an opening, and the kid knows his way around a crime scene. I don’t know why, but I think I will feel much better about the girls’ safety having him working for me.” “I can’t argue with that…if there’s anyone who can help to give us some insight into The Eagle, John’s the one to do it.”

Jim got up just as the cleaning people arrived, saying that while he’d love to stay and help redecorate, he had detective work to do. “I have to spend the rest of the afternoon filling out goddamn reports on the adventures of last night and this morning. I’ll see you back at quarter to.” He walked out the door. Steve heard him yelling all the way down the hall, “What the fuck are you all looking at? Get to work! You’re wasting my tax dollars.”

John called HR as promised. The woman on the phone gave him a hard time, telling him that the FBI makes requests for information through their own recruitment process and that his request was unusual. He explained that Agent Hoffman directly requested his résumé, and after a little haggling was told his résumé had been sent. It was noon, and it had been a quiet morning. He was traveling west on Malibu Canyon Road, and, after twisting his way through the canyon, he came out the other side to see the Pacific Ocean ahead of him, Pepperdine University on his right, and some open fields to his left. He turned onto PCH and headed down the coast. Walter Cruthers’ address was flashing on his GPS. When he got to Cliffside Drive, he found a gated community. He showed his ID to the rent-a-cop at the gate and was let in. Cliffside Drive covered a lot of ground in Malibu. When he entered the enclave, the street numbers started in the five thousands. It was a wealthy area occupied by a lot of celebrities, but the bulk of the residents were just common folks. Business people, wealthy business executives, producers, agents, and the list went on. The street was also very deceptive. High walls, well-manicured hedges, and gates hid multimillion dollar mansions. He reached 1 Cliffside Drive at half past twelve. It was barely marked and was the last house at the end of the drive. It had a most unassuming entrance.

Unlike the majority of his neighbors, Mr. Cruthers didn’t have large gates or high walls. John could see the entrance to his home from the street, so he pulled off near a sand dune about a block from the house. He parked out of sight and pulled a metal case from behind the seat of his truck. He opened it and removed two electronic devices. One was a small black box marked ‘Counter Surveillance System.’ The unit, which had a belt clip and had been obtained through his military contacts, was designed to detect every known type of listening device; it also picked up infrared security and a wide range of differing radio signals. The second device was no bigger than a small cell phone, and he turned it on and placed it in his pocket. The device was designed to detect any and all security cameras and devices, hardwired or wireless, and their frequencies. The unit automatically blocked the transmission of a signal, or looped its signal, so that he couldn’t be detected by any security device on Cruthers’ grounds.

He walked toward the entrance of the home and up the drive. The scanner on his hip vibrated, alerting him to listening devices in the area. He had both units set to automatically scan for signals and block them. All of this happened in a fraction of a second. He was getting buzzes from both his hip and his pocket as he approached the house. There were no cars in the drive, and from the outside the house was very unassuming. There were no signs of life as he approached the front door, but his systems were going crazy. They were blocking everything and anything. He would be able to download the data to his laptop when he was finished walking the premises and would be able to see exactly what types of surveillance Cruthers was using. He walked past the front door and found a small gate with a latch that lifted easily. What he found on the other side of the gate was an incredible home.

Walter had thought of heading for home after seeing John and Sara but decided to go back to talk to Marty. He backed into his parking space in the garage and went to the administrative offices. He walked into Marty’s office as Margaret was finishing up with a call. “Mr. Cruthers. It’s so nice to see you. How are you doing today, sir?” She was in her late fifties and had a matronly manner about her, which Walter liked. He had asked her out a couple of times, but Margaret was happily married, yet she was always flattered when he would make an advance. It became a game the two of them played, one that had gone on since he took over the hospital in 2001. “Margaret, my love, my day has been so dreary, but seeing your smiling beautiful face makes me forget all my troubles.” She blushed and buzzed Marty’s office to let him know he was there. “You can go right in, Mr. Cruthers.”

“Margaret, we have known each other for over a decade. When are you going to address me by my first name?” “It just doesn’t seem proper, Mr. Cruthers.” “Well, Margaret, I’m going to make it proper. From now on, please call me Walter.” She smiled. She had never been given permission to address him any other way. She also knew Walter’s temperament, and if he instructed you to behave in a certain way, you did so. She had seen both sides of Walter. The kind, affectionate man, and the ruthless, angry businessman who would, could, and had destroyed many a career. “I’m flattered, Mr.….I mean, Walter. Mr. Powers will see you now.” He bowed slightly toward her and walked into Marty’s office. “Don’t get up, Marty. I wouldn’t want you to acknowledge me as your superior.” Marty stood straight up and apologized. “Oh sit down, Marty. I don’t want you to kiss my ass right now.”

Walter began pacing and asked about the conversation with Doctor Cook. Marty just shook his head. “I did as you asked, Walter, and she’s promised to think things over and to get me an answer by the end of her shift on Monday.” “That’s not acceptable, Marty. I want this woman, and I want her on board now!” “What do you want me to do, Walter? Tie her up and hold her against her will?” Walter looked disgusted and sat down. “I want you to do your damn job. If there is one thing about your management style that I don’t like, it’s your easy going nature.” Marty shrugged and asked, “Are you seriously offering Doctor Cook a blank check? The board will never go for it.” “The BOARD? I am the board, Marty. The BOARD will do whatever I tell them to do. Besides, Sara is not a greedy woman; she’s practical.” Marty’s face grew more serious, and he lowered his voice, “Sara said that you have seen her in the ER ten times in the past six months.” “Yea…so?” “She said only her, Walter. She also said that you’ve made unwanted advances.” Walter crossed his legs and asked, “Where are you going with this?”