Favors and Lies (24 page)

“A big number.”

“But manageable. For the airplanes registered at Manassas Regional Airport, I can now access their information and get granular information on all of the registered airplanes for that location. The type of aircraft. The seating configuration. The number of toilets. Who owns each plane.”

“Wow.”

“So if we only look at jets, we have a total of eleven that are registered with Manassas Airport, listing the airport as their home location. Eleven out of 120. Of those eleven jets, we are now going to look at who owns them.”

“I'm getting nervous.”

“That is the adrenaline of the hunt. It is one of the perks of the job.”

“I was beginning to wonder if there were perks. I see mostly downside.”

“Sometimes, I agree . . . If we go back to the eleven jets, we see that one of the planes is owned by Amgen. One is owned by Alcatel. Capital One has a plane. Northrup Grumman and Orbital Sciences each have a plane. Oscar winning actress Mary Streaker has a private jet. The AOL founders each have one. Then you have planes owned by companies you have never heard of: Spearhead Tech. Joost. Silver Star.”

Dan paused.

“We know that name,” Sue said.

“Yes we do. That is the same name as the company that shows up on the sales transaction for the property on Wisconsin Avenue. The owner of the mystery property.”

“A multi-faceted company.”

“A front company could be anything. And it could have multiple uses. There was a big story last year about front companies being used for tax evasion. Did you know there is a single building in the Cayman Islands serving as the official registered address for over five thousand companies? It doesn't take much to be a front company. A name and some documentation. You can open an LLC online in about ten minutes. Try it sometime.”

“So you think this plane is the one you are looking for?”

“This is the plane the barber saw on his birthday. I think this plane does not have to file flight plans. I think the tail number you see there is the one the barber wanted $10,000 for.”

“Can you check the flight history again, now that you have the tail number?”

“I can.” Dan typed on the computer and the results flashed on the screen.

“Nothing. As you would expect. The airplane has no flight history. It doesn't show up in the flight records for the airport for the day in question and it doesn't have any flight information for any other day.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, ostensibly, there is a plane parked at the airport that has never flown. It also means the barber was telling the truth about the airplane he saw. But I am no closer to finding my attorney friend Clyde Parkson.”

“Why don't you stop looking for him? Seems to me if you stand still long enough, he is going to find you.”

“The winner of a battle is, in part, pre-determined by preparation. A planned offensive position is always better than an impromptu defensive one.”

“So, what's next?”

“Sometimes you have to take a step back to move forward.”

—

Dr. April Cathright returned to the room ninety minutes later. “How are we getting along?”

“Good,” Sue answered from the recliner. Dan was on the bed, eyes closed.

“Move over. Nap time,” April said. Dan scooted over on the bed, pushing his shoulder against the wall.

“How long are you on duty?” Dan asked, eyes staring at the ceiling.

“Seventy-two hours. I am covering the residents through tomorrow night and then I am on call with my own practice the following thirty-six hours. You are safe until then. No one will even know you are here. I'll bring food and water from the doctor's lounge. Toilet is in the foyer. Just pop your head out the door and see if anyone is there. There are six doors in the foyer. Six doctors all sleeping different rotations. No one will ask you questions because you just plain can't be here by accident. And if someone does ask, just say you are my cousin.”

April Cathright peeled off her jacket and slid on top of the covers next to Dan.

“I accessed the computer network.”

“You remembered my birthday?”

“Took three tries.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Half of it. I have a question for you.”

“I am not going to like this, am I?” Dr. Cathright responded.

“Can you change the information on medical files?”

“Not for closed files. Anything open, I can make changes to. But I cannot go back and change a patient's file from last year, for example. I can only add addendums. Everything is electronic now.”

“So you can only addend, but you cannot change the original diagnosis.”

“Exactly, if we could change the original information, every doctor would have a one hundred percent successful diagnosis rate. Just go back in, change the medical record, and the file would show you are always correct.”

“What about making a record disappear? Who could do that?”

“No one. A completely corrupted database, maybe. Why do you ask?”

“Because I just checked my own medical history.”

“And?”

“I don't have one. Nothing. Zippo. I have been to this hospital at least three times in the last ten years. And they don't have anything on me.”

“Jesus, Dan. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I'm not sure exactly, which makes extraction a little more problematic.”

Dan pondered his missing medical files before his mind wandered to darker thoughts—the bomb, the mafia showing up in his hospital room, his nephew, his neighbor Lucia, his four-legged friend Levi. He reigned in the focus on his losses and turned his attention to problem-solving.

Dr. Cathright's pager started blaring a barely recognizable version of “Country Roads” and she threw her feet onto the floor and muttered, “I'll be back.”

Sue waited for the door to shut. “You ask a lot from the people you know.”

“Not all of them. She knows I'm in trouble. I have never brought my work anywhere near April. Ever. She understands. Without me saying anything, she understands. You only get a handful of people like that in your life.”

“I'm not so sure she understands.”

“She's smart enough to understand. She is a doctor—an OB-GYN. That means she practices medicine all day at the office, she delivers babies at all hours of the night, and performs surgery in between. People may stumble into medicine and find themselves working as a shrink, but people don't stumble into a surgical field. She is a hell of a lot smarter than I am. She knows exactly what is going on.”

“And you repay these favors?”

“All of them. Twofold.”

“Well, if you survive this mess, you are going to be very busy.”

—

Dr. Cathright returned fifteen minutes later.

Dan stood and swiped Sue's keychain off the desk and reached for the doorknob. Sue interrupted him first. “Where are you going?”

“To run some errands. Find the people on the plane. Resolve this.”

“You are going to need help,” Sue added.

“No, I am going to need your car,” Dan replied, jingling Sue's keys in his hand.

“Sure. Take it,” Sue said, offended.

“Thanks. My main goal here is to keep you safe. Don't use your phone, even though reception in these rooms is awful. Stay off the grid. You have seventy-two hours of safety here. After that, we are both in real trouble.”

“You know we are going to talk about you while you are gone,” Sue said. “I'm going to grill Dr. Cathright here. I am going to ask her everything I can think of.”

Dan looked at Sue and then locked eyes with Dr. Cathright. “Tell her anything you want. I trust her.”

“Must have hurt to say that.”

“More than I imagined it would.”

—

Sue pulled her leg up to her chest and wrapped her arms around it, leaning back into the recliner as Dr. Cathright lay on the bed.

“Dan gave me the green light to ask you about him. I have more than a few questions.”

“You have more questions than I have answers.”

“What's he like?”

“More than anyone I have ever met, what you see is what you get.”

“I'm not sure what I see. I've only been working with him for a short time. I don't get the feeling the last week has been indicative of normal, or any version of normal.”

“There may not be a normal with Dan.”

“Honestly, at first I thought he was a little crazy. Someone in deep mourning who could probably benefit from depression medication. He was obsessed with clearing the names of his nephew and sister-in-law. Consumed with finding who was responsible for their deaths. I wasn't sure what to believe. I thought maybe he was wishing for a bad guy, hoping there was one, so he could validate a reason for his relatives' deaths. So he could prove their deaths were beyond a drug overdose and a suicide.”

“And now?”

“I see someone who is relentless. Someone who has a long line of people—friends, acquaintances—whatever you want to call them, who are willing to help him.”

“He has charm. He is honest. He helps people who are in trouble. He has good karma.”

“He also hangs out with marginal characters. Hackers. Call girls.”

“You mean Haley Falls?”

“You know her?”

“I know about her. I don't think Haley Falls was a call girl. I think she was a madam.”

“Do you have any idea how that sounds?”

“Crazy, probably. But no more crazy than a bomb blowing up the art gallery beneath his office. A drug-sniffing dog. With Dan, you get honest, and you get crazy. But that's from an outside perspective. Dan spent so much time overseas during his formative years, he isn't like you and me. I think when you grow up all over the world, your definition of crazy changes. Or maybe your definition of normal widens.”

“Maybe. He is a little paranoid. And secretive. I asked him where he lived once and I never got an answer. He has a car, but he doesn't drive it to work. He never talks about commuting, which, let's face it, in this town, is a popular conversation. His official address, the one on his driver's license, is his office. But I know he has a house because he mentioned it.”

“So you're not sleeping with him?” Dr. Cathright asked.

“No. He is my boss.”

“And you work in his office?”

“Yep. The one with all the security. The cameras. The locks. The special bulletproof glass.”

“He likes his security. He says he has made some enemies.”

“Like federal judges. Politicians. Powerful people.”

“I never wanted to know, so I never asked. I knew if asked, he would tell me. And some things you can't unhear. Unknow. Unlearn.”

“Is he wealthy?”

“When Dan's parents passed away, Dan and his brother received some inheritance.”

“How much?”

“I don't know, exactly. A couple of million between them is my guess. Life changing but not enough to buy an island and retire. Enough to allow him to do whatever he does.”

“I only mention it because he has spent a hell of a lot of money the last week or so.”

“His prerogative. After his parents died, Dan decided he was going to do something meaningful. He had graduated from law school and had passed the bar. Already he was disenchanted with the legal profession. The way he put it, it seemed like the job was predicated on preying on others. A job that was always performed at someone else's expense.”

“So he quit?”

“Before he really got started. He took his money and bought some property in Alexandria.”

“I found some real estate records with his name on them. He owns the entire office building. Two floors. The gallery downstairs. It's the whole side of a small block.”

“He owns more than that. He also bought the old Stonewall Jackson House. Built in the 1850s and on the historical registry. Dan bought it through a trust. A half acre right in the middle of Old Town Alexandria. He used his inheritance to purchase it as well as refurbish the residence and the grounds. He lets the Alexandria Historical Society use the place in exchange for maintaining the house and for tax purposes. Dan has full access whenever he wants, but he rarely goes in the main house. He took me in one night. Showed me around.”

Dr. Cathright blushed and Sue noticed.

“The public can take tours of the property once a week. Historically, the house was used for lodging and rumor has it Woodrow Wilson enjoyed staying there. Dan lives on the property, but not in the main residence.”

“He bought a historical house through a trust and he doesn't live there?”

“He lives in the carriage house behind the main residence.”

“Once again, the only adjective I can come up with is crazy.”

“For you and I, maybe.”

“What is it like?”

“Beautiful. The carriage house is a couple thousand square feet. Completely renovated. Gorgeous views of a garden. On a fabulous piece of property that is professionally maintained. When Dan sells that property, I will know he's in financial trouble. Until then . . .”

“How far from the office is this house?”

“Down the sealed-off alley in the back. Through an old cast-iron door in a brick wall. He can walk from his house to work without going onto a public street.”

“What about his car?”

“He parks in the Union Street public parking garage. Pays for a spot. Monthly rental. Open twenty-four hours a day.”

“So this guy who grew up all over the world lives a hundred yards from where he works?”

“He does.”

“Crazy. What else?”

“He speaks a few languages. I could never pin him down on an exact number. His French is native level. His Spanish is flawless. I have heard him speak Russian and he seems to do it fluently, though I don't speak any Russian so I can't really tell you. He speaks Thai. Some Farsi. Portuguese.”

“Jesus.”

“And he can fight.”

“And lose.”

“Not very often. He learned how to fight as a kid overseas. Started out innocently enough, or so he says. Says he was practicing some karate forms he had seen on a video and an ex-special forces soldier working security detail at some embassy invited him to train. Started showing him things. Kill and maim techniques, as Dan put it. As Dan bounced around from country to country, he moved from teacher to teacher. His family would arrive at a new destination and Dan would be practicing with the marines and diplomatic security personnel before he unpacked. He joined local dojos wherever he went. Trained in a bunch of martial arts and learned to fight with knives, sticks, and swords. Evidently, he had a reputation for being quite a handful as a teenager.”

“Interesting. But a little childish for a grown man.”

“Not if people are trying to kill you.”

Sue nodded.

Dr. Cathright yawned and turned away. “Anything else you want to know?”

Sue parsed through the thousand questions flashing across the screen in her mind. She settled on a less personal one. “You ever meet this nephew of his?”

“Conner? Yes.”

“What's so special about him?”

Dr. Cathright fell silent, closed her eyes, and began to snore.