Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2) (8 page)

BOOK: Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2)
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“There were no complaints,” he joshed in return. “She’s gradually beginning to relax with it as I get more hours in the cockpit. Of course it was the first trip in the ‘Beaver’ for both of us,” he quipped. “She had nothing to compare it with.” The Partners shared a laugh over that. Dannie seemed to like Max’s sense of humor. That summed up the briefing.

Max had been cautious in summarizing the experience and was looking for any hints or clues from Chip and Danyel as to whether they had gotten any reports back, from any source, concerning the trip prior to his briefing. He did notice a fleeting glance between the two when he referenced the Native Indians presence. Max wondered if they were looking for signs of any prejudice he might have, or whether he might have noticed any prejudice on their part. There was nothing conclusive either way. It was just more of the USAP ‘charm’ that he was getting accustomed to, sort-of.

Chapter 12

Senior Partner Chip Chaplain called for a convergence meeting of all available USAP Partners. To each whom responded, he gave the date and place in code.  At the meeting a majority of Partners would decide on the question of a buy-out of deceased Partner Ernest Bickford’s family business. In order to arrange an agreeable date for a sufficient number of Partners, several contacts were made and re-made over a course of two days. Such was the security emphasis with the Partnership Operations.

In a memo from Chip, Max was asked to provide value estimates on the property and business. The property was not named, but in light of the briefing with Chip and Dannie, Max knew it was in reference to the Bickford Laboratory in Nova Scotia.  It required three separate value estimates, real estate, equipment, and business, plus a feasibility study on the complete purchase as a going business. The due date for the completed report was, ‘any time prior to October 26th’.

Max was somewhat surprised at the short notice. He could, based on his inspection, estimate the current real estate value based on an analysis of recent comparable sales, but the value estimation of a business located in Canada would require him to locate and hire a local area financial advisor familiar with the Bickford Laboratory operation. Max knew that he could get acceptance from Chip to engage Maggie as a financial advisor to protect the Partnerships interest, but he didn’t know how long it would take for her to settle on a reliable financial expert in Nova Scotia with whom she could collaborate. He recalled Maggie’s conversation with the local banker during the laboratory inspection.  “
That could be the individual with some insight as to the best contact for that purpose,”
he thought. In any event, although Max didn’t relish the thought, a return trip to Nova Scotia would be necessary.

When Maggie called him at his Lakeside apartment later that evening, they both had serious business to discuss.  Maggie was consumed with the court summons she had been served with and used Max as a sounding board on that issue. She did agree, however to contact her fellow ‘financial guy’ in Nova Scotia (she couldn’t recall his name but had his business card) for assistance, or recommendations, in his local area.

After current matters were covered, the two intimate friends conversed at length on a wide range of subjects, most of which centered on the unusual, irregular circumstances they had gotten involved in together. It all started in East Wayford when they became embroiled in a police investigation of serial homicides. That escapade ended with the mysterious perpetrator dead and their police chief friend clinging to life with a possibly fatal wound. Both Maggie and Max were vindicated, and they actually had assisted the police in finding the killer.

They marveled at how two professionals like themselves, while living rather successful and tranquil existences operating and living in a sleepy Connecticut village, had innocently gotten caught up in a high-drama, life-and-death cycle of criminality vs. police work vs. public relations.

In the process they had become close to the Mayor of East Wayford who, at Maggie’s request, was now going to represent her in the mysterious court summons.

Max, as a result of his cooperative work with the State Police Inspector, had caught the attention of a fellow college alumnus, Chip Chaplain, who was a former military acquaintance of the inspector. Based on the inspector’s recapitulation of Max’s effective and discrete assistance in solving the mysterious serial killings, Chip offered Max the opportunity to enter the USAP Partners.

With Max’s new position as a USAP Partner, and Maggie’s expanded ventures in financial consulting, their business lives weren’t crossing paths as frequently as before. Maggie was surprised at the warm sense of excitement that arose when Max had asked for the use of her unique financial expertise once again. Maggie’s immediate willingness to re-arrange her business operations to accommodate him, spoke volumes to both of them.

When the hour grew late, the couple ended the conversation with an agreement to make contact for final arrangements on the revisit to Nova Scotia.

At 9:10 AM on Thursday, Max was in Brad Charles’s office to check on transportation options for his return trip to Nova Scotia. The preferred date was the following Monday.

According to Brad there were several options by air. There were other means such as by railway/ferry, direct by boat, or drive-on ferry. Air flight was by far the shortest travel time, and direct flight vs. commercial airline was preferred.  By now Max had been briefed on, and had test-flown, most of the aircraft in the USAP inventory. He had already developed personal likes and dislikes among the fleet.

“Would the ‘Beaver’ be ready for Monday? Max asked.

“Not a chance,” said Brad. He explained to Max that an ‘arranged’ flight by floatplane such as his last trip would not be possible for at least ten days. His reason for the time delay was that the floatplane would not be converted and/or available until then.

“I’ve got the Beaver suspended while the floats are being outfitted for ‘you-know-what’, Brad said. Max recalled the Partnership briefing a short time earlier wherein Brad had proposed installing secretly concealed grenade launchers in the float pontoons of both floatplanes. The proposal had been unanimously approved and the operation was apparently underway.

“What about the Cessna Caravan Amphibian? Max asked.  It was pointed out that Ezra had the ‘Caravan’ in Panama while it was being used on an investigative assignment. Brad did not disclose the client’s name, and Max was aware of the fact that it would be pointless to ask. Then Brad mentioned that since there might be three-to-four people on the Nova Scotia trip, and he suggested that Max speak with Chip on the matter.

Max was somewhat stymied on what seemed to be a stalling approach being utilized, by Brad, to his planning for the trip. He was also wondering who the other one, or two, travelers might be.

Chip was expected shortly. Max left word with head secretary Heather for notice when Chip arrived.  In the meantime he took the time in his C.F.O. office going over the bi-weekly payroll report that his financial clerk had submitted for his approval.

With a beep on his intercom, Heather announced Chip’s arrival.  Max stepped out of his rear door and strode through the hidden walkway to the meeting room and then up the stairs to the operations office.

“Good morning Max,” Chip greeted, good-naturedly. “I heard that you got my memo on the Bickford property, do you have any questions on it?”

“I’ll have to make another visit there to evaluate the business portfolio. So far everything is falling into place except the travel arrangements,” Max replied. “Brad tells me that both float planes are unavailable. If I fly one of the other planes into a local airport I’ll have to rent a car there or get picked up. I have two questions. The first question is whether the customs check will be pre-arranged like the last trip, or will we have to clear through the check when we land.  My second question is about who will be going along for the ride besides Maggie. Brad suggested I see you about that.”

“Right. Last question first,” Chip responded. “Mario Ianozzi is available to translate for you, if needed. Some of the locals there are from native Mi’kmaq tribes.  Mario picked up on the lingo a while back when he and a lady friend went on vacation there with Ernie Bickford and his wife, just before his accident. I thought Lamar Brooks would be helpful if you incur any resistance to your quest for information. He presents a pretty imposing presence, if you know what I mean.” Max listened without responding. He really didn’t know what Chip meant, but thinking back to the trouble he and Maggie had that night at the café, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea, he reasoned.

“On the other question,” Chip went on, “you will have to check through customs this time. For your last trip we used a short-cut Ernie had fixed for us with the locals. He came and went that way when he visited family and friends.” Then he asked, “I know you renewed your passport when you came on board, but does Maggie have hers up to date?”

“Yes, Maggie’s is current,” Max responded. “She accompanied her mother on her last trip to Europe.”

“I can get the four of you there in no time on Monday using the Lear Jet,” Chip suggested. “I have to be in Ontario by 1:00 PM Central time to deliver a proposal for a government project. I can pick you up Wednesday afternoon on the way back.”

“That sounds good to me,” Max agreed with no hesitation. “I’ve been checked out, but I haven’t had many hours in the jet. I can fly the right seat for you. Do you have a co-pilot for the hop over to Ontario?” he asked. After a few moments of reflective thought the response was positive. “Sure, I can ask Brad, he hasn’t had a break from his project for two weeks. He loves to fly the executive jet and I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance,” Chip answered.

The USAP airstrip was not long enough to handle the heavier airplane. Also, an ILS (Instrument Landing System) facility was required for most landings. The Lear 45 was located nearby at the Ithaca International Airport and maintained by a private concierge service. The service provided a shuttle car and would provide a pilot and co-pilot for a fee, if requested.

The arrangements were settled upon to meet at headquarters on Monday morning for a shuttle to the airport.

“I can take the Cessna Skylane to pick up Maggie in New Haven and come back on Sunday afternoon,” Max mentioned. The expected affirmation from Chip solidified the plan and Max went back to the flight office to make arrangements with Brad to ready the Cessna.

Chapter 13

Friday morning arrived with some bothersome flying weather. Max encountered a rain shower as he drove his runabout to the USAP headquarters. He was ahead of his planned take off time by one hour, hoping to get ahead of an approaching storm line. When he reached the flight office entrance there was no one on duty. Max entered his pass code on the entry pad and noticed his flight plan on Brad’s counter top computer. The take-off time was entered as 8:00 AM.  A stick-on note from Brad read, ‘Happy flying.’ Max looked into the service bay of the hangar and saw that the Cessna Skylane was parked facing the hangar doors, ready to go. Max had to re-enter the take-off time and ETA (estimated time of arrival) at Tweed airport in New Haven, into the flight plan program. Sitting at Brad’s desk he opened the program and located the previously entered flight plan that was on ‘Ready to auto-enter’.  He moved up the take-off and arrival times by one hour and tapped the enter key. The over-ride worked and ‘Accepted’ showed on the screen. Max had checked the on-line weather radar at his apartment and knew that, with the storm front moving west-to-east, there would be time for his quick flight for a rendezvous with Maggie at Tweed Airport. On the note from Brad, Max jotted, ‘Thanks, left one hour early’.

  The wind was brisk from the southwest when Max took off and once he brought the airplane to the altitude assigned by the flight clearance, he was flying in perfect conditions with unlimited visibility.  Max called Maggie to advise her of his expected arrival time. The flight, the landing and the rendezvous with Maggie went exactly as planned.

“I love it when a good plan comes together,” was Maggie’s comment to Max as they embraced upon his arrival. She was referring to the relative convenience of the travel and transport arrangements available to them. It allowed them to enjoy their favorite pastime, being together.  Each of them had looked forward to this two-day down time.

Events were occurring more rapidly, and beyond the levels of control that Maggie and Max had experienced in the past. At this point in time it seemed that some unknown force was driving both of their lives in directions which challenged the sense of stability and purpose that each was accustomed to. They were following paths which had indefinite destinations. Yet, each pursued this life they chose willingly, and with integrity, buoyed by the uniqueness and excitement of it.

Friday lunch at their favorite venue, Jerry’s Jug in East Wayford, Connecticut, had become a tradition with Max and Maggie. In a strictly romantic sense however, a wharf-side, secluded shack-type eatery further south on the Connecticut shoreline was their initial get-away spot while developing a relationship they preferred to be private. It was where they were able to explore the possibilities and prospects of a personal and intense attraction without detection by their circle of friends and business associates, back at a time when each felt that it was important to camouflage their involvement.  Anonymity rather than food was the driving issue, therefore that venue ranked very high on their lunch-event list. But that was then…, this was now.

“G’day mates!” The usual greeting from Australian native Jerry, the proprietor, was ‘shouted-out’ to Max and Maggie as they entered the respectable and popular Main Street village pub. “The Dynamic Duo makes a rare but welcome visit!” Jerry continued.  This was the proprietor’s way of advertising to all present patrons within earshot that an influential person, or persons, had frequented his establishment. As regular patrons, Max and Maggie didn’t mind the sophomorically-conspicuous, flattering greeting because they knew that Jerry would quickly usher them into a favorite spot. Thereafter, for the duration of that visit, he would respect and protect their privacy

While enjoying their martinis and waiting for lunch to be served, Maggie divulged to Max that Mayor Gene Van Dyke, her attorney, had discerned the reason for the summons she had been served with. She told him that the plaintiff was ‘Jonathan Simmone’, of Lyme, CT. The complaint was against ‘Margaret Marshall’, of East Wayford, CT. The complaint was, in layman’s language, ‘impersonating a US Government Aide’. The accuser was a day manager of the Toll Bridge Inn, a restaurant in Lyme.

“Gene knows of Simmone,” Maggie explained. “He’s known for instigating nuisance claims against patrons of the restaurant and/or fellow-employees that he has a grievance with, usually women. He’s represented by his attorney, and same-sex marriage Partner, Henri Ouellette. They are known for withdrawing the complaints when offered compensation, along with an apology.”

“So, that is the guy at the restaurant near the floatplane dock in Lyme?” Max asked rhetorically. “And you schmoozed him into serving lunch that day before the place was open.”

“Yeah, I guess my charms weren’t his motivation after all,” she lamented in a flippant manner. Max could sense that Maggie was somewhat relieved at finding out the source of the legal action but, at the same time, pissed-off at the angst it caused along with the impending legal fee she would owe.

“I don’t know Mag,” Max responded with faked seriousness. “If I was that maître d I would have wanted to bend over and enjoy burying my face kissing your boobs.” At that, Maggie erupted with a tension-releasing guffaw which, in a refined, more gentile environment would have drawn judgmental stares. “But I think his motivation,” Max went on, “must have been the thought of rubbing shoulders with some big-deal government people and enjoying a big tip, not big tits!” They both convulsed in stifled laughter and had to stop and take a deep breath after that quip.

The release of tension over the easy-dispensability of the summons, along with the warm feelings she always seemed to feel when rejoining Max after a separation, had Maggie beaming that after-hours smile that inevitably reduced Max to ‘putty in her hands’. At that point he was hers to do with what she wished. Some women, wise to the vulnerable position that a man would be in at a moment like this, would press for some sort of concession in their relationship. Maggie, out of respect for the man that was of most importance in her life, rejected any urge to do that.  Max, sensing that his jovial openness had momentarily mitigated the amount of worry and concern which Maggie had been dealing with, also avoided any follow-up that would infringe on the enjoyment of the moment they were sharing. This is what they were all about. They both felt it, and it was very special to them.

During the remainder of the late lunch, Max detailed the specifics of the flight back to Lakeside on Sunday and what the preparation for the Monday morning return trip to Nova Scotia would entail.

After a catch-up conversation with their friend Jerry, the proprietor, the twosome settled their tab, bid him adieu and made their way to Max’s Hargrove House Apartments to catch up on business. Following the informal apartment management talk in their shared unit, Maggie phoned her office at Marshall Real Estate Services for messages. After jotting notes in her day- scheduler notebook regarding the messages relayed by her secretary, Jessie, Maggie wished her an enjoyable weekend and left instructions to call with only urgent matters until she returned  late on the following Tuesday, or early Wednesday.  She decided to pack her bag for the Sunday flight to Lakeside. This would leave all of Saturday open for leisure.

With their afternoon business taken care of, Maggie then joined Max in sharing a light early-evening supper accompanied by soft, easy-listening background music, some fine wine, and some well-deserved, mutually- anticipated ‘sack time’

Saturday was a rare day of relaxation for Max and Maggie. Both of these busy professionals, without discussing it in advance, had maintained silence on any problems or questions dealing with their occupations. A drive through Western Massachusetts to Vermont provided them with some views of colorful autumn foliage, a seasonal treat enjoyed by those who appreciate the four-season northeast phenomenon.  A stop at a favorite Western Massachusetts restaurant for lunch was a highlight. A visit to another frequent spot closer to home for dinner and drinks brought the road trip full circle. Both a little travel weary, they snoozed while watching TV, called it a day and went to bed early.

BOOK: Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2)
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