Old Growth & Ivy (The Spook Hills Trilogy Book 1) (27 page)

“Chief,” Ivy said with quiet
authority.  “Can we discuss the plans for the sting here at Spook Hills?”

Steve frowned at her.  “I thought
we did that, but okay.  We are adding five agents who we trust to spring
the trap, assembling a team of “Rent-A-Goons”, as borrowed agents are called at
the Bureau.”

“Where will they be?”

“Standard protocol will put them
hidden at strategic spots here in the barn, the old house and our house.”

“If the perps think anyone might be
here, isn’t that where they would expect them to be?”

“If they know how the FBI works.”

“So why don’t we take an unexpected
approach?”

“Something tells me you have an idea
worked out.  Just come out with it Ivy.”

“Next week is Halloween, right?”

Steve’s impatience was beginning to
show.  “So what?”

“And we are Spook Hills?” Ivy knew she
was irritating Steve but she was hoping that by springing her idea on him
slowly, she would hook him in.

“Dammit Ivy.  Quit the dance and
come out with the idea.”

“We dress up the agents as
ghosts.  Put them out front, but as stationary objects.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.  That’s not
how we do things.”

“But maybe this is how the Spook Hills
Gang does things.  Throw something at them out of the box.  Like we
are so blissfully ignorant that the perps may hit us that we can be light and silly
by having Halloween decorations out.”

Mathew started laughing.  “Set up
some of those cornstalks too -- you know the ones like a teepee?”

“The Amish call them shocks of corn,”
Brian noted.

“Why not put out a big pile of
pumpkins?”  Steve scoffed, not amused by the ideas.

“Great!  We can put some
broomsticks outside of the front door too!” Ivy said, ignoring his
attitude.  “After all, the witches and warlocks will be inside the house
cooking up a brew of their own.”

Mathew looked over at Steve. 
“Com’on Big Guy.  Let’s put the Spook in Spook Hills.”

“This is a serious operation, not some
damn Halloween party.  We go forward as planned.”  Steve glared at
each of them in turn to emphasize his point.

Disappointed and irritated with Steve,
Ivy turned back to her laptop, mumbling.  “It’s a good scenario and it
goes in the casebook.”

Exasperated, Steve stood up and limped
outside.  Fall was advancing and the days of rain could start at any
time.  He shook his head, annoyed at Ivy’s idea and at the way Mathew and
Brian had supported her.  He looked down the driveway to where it curved
near the road.  The new sign for Spook Hills, in distinguished black and
white with silver highlights, was in place along with two curving stone walls
flanking the sides of the drive.  They were made from the same grey stone
they used on the house; each wall ended in a pillar of stone with a large black
carriage lamp on top, looking inviting but dignified.

Even though he had discarded Ivy’s
idea, in his mind’s eye he found himself picturing the agent-ghosts down there
along with the shocks of corn and piles of pumpkins.  He looked over at
the unfinished house and then behind him at the barn.  If they could do it
so that the ghosts really did not look like live agents, it was damn clever,
though a bit childish just like some of Astuto’s tactics.  It also solved
a problem of where to hide agents to cover the perps’ escape route.  He
wondered if they could pull it off.

He went back into the barn, aware of
the lingering annoyance in the air.  No one looked at him.  He opened
his laptop and went over the planned scenarios, noticing that Ivy had added the
embellished version of her option.  The Spook Hills Gang could have its
own ways of doing things and maybe that involved some flair. 

“All right Scenario 5.1 it is. 
Ivy, you are in charge of the ghost and ghoul costumes.  Use Brian and
Mathew as your models and get Fred to construct an internal stand for the
agents to lean against for support since they could be out there for a two or
more hours. 

“Mathew, you take the corn
shocks.  Brian, you get the brooms and the pumpkins, then work with Ivy
and Mathew.  At the end of the drive, I want two agents standing together
by one wall, another one by the sign.  Two more will be up here flanking the
barn doors.  However if the costumes fail to make an agent look like an
ethereal, stationary ghost, the plan is off the table.”

“Boo!” Mathew yelled.  “Let’s get
cracking.  Where the heck do I get the cornstalks?”

Steve looked over at Ivy.  She
had a little smile on her face but said nothing.  It made him wonder if
she had already ordered the supplies she would need for the agent-ghosts. 
How did she know he would go for her plan?  It was risky.  It was
unorthodox.  Where had this devil-may-care streak in her come from? 
Was this the same shattered woman who damn near had a nervous breakdown last
summer?  In the business world, had she always walked a little too close
to the edge until it wore her down?  One day he would understand the riddle
that was Ivy but until that time she would catch him off-guard, and he was okay
with that.  She had so many layers and aspects to her that for the most
part functioned well together.  He felt so one-dimensional by comparison
and so far behind her in his personal development.  He had courage and
intellect and he had opened his heart to her.  He hoped that over time he
would come to know more facets of himself, but that was for after this case
against the Fuentes was resolved.

In case the house was watched, the
Rent-a-Goons would arrive the morning of the operation, each one packed into a
big box, like any of the many deliveries coming in.  These boxes would be
put in the barn and unpacked, giving the agents access to a microwave and
fridge, as well as a jobsite-johnny.  Lenny from the Sofia operation was
now retired and on the Steve’s list of agents, lending substance if it came to
a firefight.  While they planned an intriguing setup, if the perps decided
not to move in, they would have to plot another strategy.  To keep the
plan secret, the active FBI agents assigned to them at the farm would not be
privy to the plan and the agents they were bringing in would only be briefed
once they arrived and were hidden in the barn.

About two the following Friday
afternoon, when Ivy, Mathew and Steve were visibly outside working, from inside
the house Fred nervously made his phone call to the perps.   Steve
attached a recording device to the cell phone, so they would have proof of the
conversation if needed. 

"Hello, this Fred."

"About time."

"The guys, they stick around,
only out one, two at a time."

"When?"

"Tomorrow.  They go to wine
thing.  Portland.  They leave noon.  Back by four."

"All of 'em?"

"Not me and not our assigned
agent."  Fred was so nervous, the phone almost slipped out of his
hand.  He tightened his grip.

"Okay kid.  You get yourself
out to the old barn.  Stay there."

"Uh, one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Furniture delivery between noon
and one.  Go in house."

"Got it."

The day of the setup started right on
schedule with the borrowed UPS van arriving at 10.  The boxes containing
the agents were carefully unloaded into the barn.  Once out, Steve briefed
the agents on how the operation would proceed.  One agent in regular
clothes would stay in the barn to protect Fred or to rush the house if
needed.  The others would be disguised in long, flowing white, silver and
gray gowns made of layers of a shimmery material and donned over white
coveralls.  Each one was made to look like a spooky Halloween ghost. 
Among the agents, there was some laughter and then some soft grumbling about
how to keep the eyeholes lined up, but the agents soon realized that Ivy had
made headbands with Velcro that solved that issue.  Each one first climbed
into white coveralls.  Fred had constructed a stand inside each outfit
that consisted of a platform, a vertical back post and horizontal shoulders,
which the agents could lean against, with their feet on the platform giving
them balance.  Steve checked them out, gave his approval and walked away,
smiling to himself and feeling pleasantly surprised that Ivy pulled it
off. 

Once suited up, two ghost-agents were
wheeled outside on a handtruck and put in front of the barn, on either side of
the sliding door.  Three ghost-agents were laid on a trailer along with
the corn and the pumpkins.   Mathew used the tractor to tow the
trailer down to the front with Steve, Mathew, Fred and Ivy holding all in
place.  Once at the bottom, they first put out the corn shocks, then the
pumpkins, and finally the ghosts.  The greatest challenge was keeping
their laughter under control, especially when lifting the robed agents onto the
handcart to get wheeled into place.   Now they truly were Spook
Hills.   Brian took a few photos of the finished setup.   A
light breeze was blowing, adding to the effectiveness of the long, tattered,
spooky costumes.

By noon the agent-ghosts were at their
posts.  "Operation Spook Hills" was underway.  Ivy, Mathew,
Brian and Steve jumped into the Suburban and waved goodbye to Fred, reminding
him of the furniture delivery.  In the rear view mirror, Mathew watched
him walk out to the barn, his shoulders hunched with worry.

The exchange at their neighbors was
fast.   Brian sealed the other three into the boxes and then he was
sealed into one himself by the two local agents posted at the neighbor’s. 
One agent put three dummies in the Suburban and drove out, heading for
Portland.  The other agent drove the truck with the boxes, circling around
and driving up to Spook Hills.  From inside the boxes, they could hear
Fred come out and open the back door of the delivery truck.  They could
either feel or hear him sliding each box onto the hydraulic tailgate, and then
lowering the boxes down.   Fred and the agent-deliveryman wrestled the
boxes into the house using a handcart.  The agent left to drive the truck
to Dundee, ready to return when called.  Fred tipped over each box on its
side, pulled off the tape and quickly Mathew, Steve, Ivy and Brian crawled out,
staying low to the floor.  They kept well away from the windows and crept
on their hands and knees to get into position.  Fred then hurried out to
the barn, where he would wait with the agent posted there. 

By 1:00 everyone was in position. Ivy
was in a protected area on the floor of the kitchen behind what would be the
big island.  Brian was in the stairwell, ready to sprint upstairs or down,
depending on where the action took place.  Mathew was on the lower level
where he could guard the sliding glass door to the patio.  Steve had the
front entry.  They waited.

At 1:30 a black Toyota
FJ
Cruiser sped up the drive.  Steve knocked on the
floor twice, signaling that the action was about to start.  Five hoods
piled out, three with submachine guns and two carrying incendiary
devices.  Four of them circled around to the back of the house, which
meant they planned to enter downstairs.  Mathew and Steve had displays of
temporary security cameras on their iPads, allowing them to watch the perps as
they crept around the house.  Steve signaled over to Brian to duck
downstairs to join Mathew.   Like at the Portland house, the perps
shot the door lock off the lower level entry. 

When Steve knocked on the floor, Ivy
called the FBI who would alert the local police, as well as send additional agents
staged nearby.  Steve saw the perp who stayed out front start to plant
explosive devices around the house.  Brian and Mathew waited for the
intruders to get inside and then opened fire.  The man out front ran for
the Cruiser.  Steve jumped to open the front door and shot him in the left
leg.  The perp crawled into the car and backed at top speed down the
drive.  From his position by the sign, Lenny whipped up his submachine gun
and opened fire on the car's tires.  The action was over in less than five
minutes.  They had one dead perp and two wounded ones.  Each member
of Steve's team was unscathed.  The plan could not have gone any better.

Agents and police screeched up the
drive, followed by ambulances and a fire truck -- no one was sure why the fire
truck was there.  The Cruiser had plowed off the road into a ditch that
ran along the edge of their property.  Lenny kept his gun on the
perp.  Steve jogged down the drive limping a little, pleased that the
cobbled-together team performed expertly. 

The local agents carefully packed up
the explosives the perps had brought, along with their weapons.  Steve had
their own firepower secured.  He would always defend his lovely Ivy, his
home and his friends.  That was his role during Operation Spook Hills --
to stand and protect.  It was a new role for him.  He had always been
the aggressor in FBI actions, but he found the new role better suited this time
in his life.

Once the perps were taken away, they
set out a buffet on the worktables in the barn and Mathew opened wine for the
agents.  Each of the agents in the ghost and ghoul outfits had their
pictures taken, both standing in position and with weapons out.  
They also took a group shot of the whole team in front of the barn.  Fred
was placed front and center in the photo as their honorary agent, due to his
key role in the operation.  Between the success of the set-up and the
comic twist of the agent-ghosts, a party atmosphere soon developed.

Steve liked using Astuto's own tactics
against him in the childish approach with the agent-ghosts.  Now with this
threat behind them at least for a time, they could turn their full attention to
running the Fuentes brothers to ground.  Steve wondered when that mail in
Santa Fe would be picked up.  He so wanted to be moving forward in his
relationship with Ivy and bring delight into her life instead of danger.

An FBI team out of L.A., handpicked by
the Chief, would do the interrogations.  Back at Spook Hills, they would
see the transcripts after each session and could call in questions, allowing
them to be at the vineyard in case a second round of attacks took place. 
Since the operation left Fred’s family too exposed to stay where they lived in
Dayton, Steve arranged a safe house for them in Salem.  His Dad was still
in alcohol rehab and according to Fred, he was doing well.  Everyone hoped
that this was one good thing that would come out of the menace of the
Fuentes. 

***

The next Wednesday morning out in the
barn, they were slogging through more research when Steve's cell phone
rang. 

'"Chief.   Moll
here.  A man who fits our description of a twin picked up the mail. 
I hi-tailed it out the back door and jumped in this old dusty pickup truck I bought. 
Just pulling on a plaid shirt and cowboy hat so he won’t realize I’m from the
post office.  What now?"

"Is he outside yet?"

"Yeah.  Line of sight. 
Carrying a plastic tub of mail.  Opening the door of a white van. 
Texas plates.  Could be a rental."

"Follow carefully and at some
distance.  Do not let him think we’re onto him.  I'm putting you on
speaker."

Steve laid his cell on his desk and
motioned them over.  "Moll's got what looks like one of the
twins.  He's following."

"Subject turned into a shopping
center.  Parking.  Locking up and heading to the supermarket. 
I’ve got these great sunglasses that have a camera in them.  When he comes
back, I’ll try to get a photo."

"Give him two minutes in the
store, then walk casually over to the van and plant the tracking device. 
Once that is in place, get the hell out of there to a vantage point.  Be
as far away as you can."

They waited, listening.  They
could hear Moll slide under the van and then a quiet, "In
place."  A car passed.  They could hear Moll's boots on the
pavement.

"Shit.  Must have
pre-ordered.  Here he comes with a loaded shopping cart."

Moll's footsteps kept the same slow
pace.  Then he stopped.  "Think I got a shot of him. 
Groceries stowed.  Van locked again.  He's going into a deli. 
From what I could see, the van already contained a dozen big boxes loaded
towards the front."

"Get back to your truck and find
the tracker on your laptop," Steve instructed.

They heard Moll walking back to his
pickup, humming some country western tune.  With the tracking device
transmitting, Moll could follow the van at a long distance to avoid getting
spotted.   They heard his truck door open and then shut.  
He started the engine.  They waited, still huddled around Steve's cell phone

"Photo on its way to you,"
Moll said.  His normally casual voice was tight with tension.

"Tracker
transmitting?"  Steve asked, fiddling with his PC.

"Yeah.  Got it on screen.
You can pick it up too." 

Steve clicked his mouse a couple of
times.  The mapping software came up and they saw a little flashing light
staying still.

"Great work Moll.  Stay cool
now.  Keep out of sight.  Remember, we don't want him to even think
we know about him."

"Got my cowpoke hat on
partner," Moll said in his joking way. "There's a shotgun in the gun rack
and I'm sporting a three-day stubble.  Picked up some old jeans and shirts
at the Goodwill.  If this pickup gets any dustier, it will choke and grind
to a halt.  I look so local, even the locals are envious."

Ivy was smiling to herself at the
thought of Moll acting like a good old country boy.

"He's moving."  Steve
kept his voice steady although even long distance, his abs tightened from the
thrill of the chase.  "Hold where you are."

"See him.  Turning this
way."

"Hang loose.  Look away from
him.  No eye contact as he goes by."

"Got my hat tipped over my face,
elbow out the window, and an eye on the screen on the seat."

"Let the subject run solo."

"Went by without looking towards
me."

They waited and watched the map and the
blinking light of the tracking device as the van made its way out of Santa Fe.

"Heading south towards an artsy
town I explored last weekend called Madrid."

"Take off now but don't rush
it.  Stay out of sight of the van."

The four of them watched the van's
progress on the map and exchanged words now and then with Moll.

"Madrid coming up.  What
should I do?"

"Pull into a side street. 
Stay out of sight." 

"Okay Chief.  Wish to hell
you were here."

"No action today. 
Surveillance only.  Keep your distance."

"He stopped.  Going into a
burger joint I ate in last weekend.  Good burgers with chili and sweet
potato fries."

At the barn they stayed quiet, so
tense that it was hard to breathe.  Steve opened the email that Moll had
sent with the photo of the Fuentes twin.  While the shot was a bit fuzzy,
to their eyes the man was identical to the passport photos from the money
laundering companies.  This appeared to be the man without the scar on his
forehead.  Steve would have the Bureau run their facial recognition
software for more certainty.

Moll stopped humming.  “Heading
to the van with a bag of take-out.  Man would I like another one of those
burgers.” 

The flashing dot start to move
again.  This was such a critical time.  If they lost him, it might be
another month before they could repeat the action.