The Fugitive's Trail (6 page)

“The shareholder meeting starts two weeks from Monday. I have to prepare for it, so I’m in town.”

“Good.” He looked at the clock on the microwave. “It’s almost noon. I need to make a phone call. Afterwards we could do whatever you want.”

Smiling, she started walking back to the bedroom. “I’ll go clean up and then be back. Let’s say, an hour.”

Kruger took a quick shower and made the phone call. Charlie Craft answered on the third ring. “What’s up, Sean?”

“Charlie, I’ve been thinking. How much trouble would it be to get all the new business applications from the various secretaries of states around the country?”

Silence was his answer. Finally Charlie said, “Don’t know. We would have to send an official request to each state attorney general, I guess. Depending on the detail and length of time you want, the data could be massive. Why?”

“Our fugitive is a computer expert, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s going to need to work, wherever he might be.”

“Okay, I’m starting to see where you’re going with this. See where new computer companies have incorporated.”

“Exactly.”

“That will be a lot of data and lots of variables. Maybe he didn’t start his own company. Maybe he hasn’t started yet, and so on and so forth. What then?”

“Then we’re in the same situation we are in now. No idea of how to find him.”

“Are we still officially on this case, Sean?”

“Well, not officially. But it bugs me we can’t find a trail. If you’ll get the information, I’ll dig through it in my spare time.”

***

A week later, Kruger and Stephanie were enjoying lunch together on the Plaza, when his cell phone vibrated. He glanced at the caller ID and quickly accepted the call.

Charlie Craft said, “I don’t have good news, Sean. We’ve received information on over five thousand computer-related companies registering as corporations, LLCs, or S-Corps, just in the past two months alone. I used that timeframe since we don’t know if he might have started the process before he disappeared or after.”

Kruger was silent for several moments, he stared at Stephanie.

She said, “What is it, Sean?”

He shook his head, held up one finger, and said into the phone, “Okay, how can we narrow it down?”

“I don’t know if we can, we would run the risk of eliminating the correct one. Heck, we don’t even know if he will be on this list.”

“Okay, at least it’s a start.” Kruger sighed. “Send the information to me. It could take months, but I’ll start sifting through it.”

Five Months Later

Springfield, MO

It was a Friday, JR Diminski had just finished signing a contract to improve internal and online security for S&W Technologies, Inc. It was a high-tech company that designed and manufactured microchips for everyday household consumer goods. Diminski’s task was to make sure no one stole their chip designs by hacking into their servers. The job included a complete computer security audit. Today he was on a plant tour, becoming familiar with their systems.

He saw her at a design table next to a high-end Macintosh. He stopped listening to his tour guide and basically stared at her. She was of Asian descent, petite, long black hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, and the most piercing dark eyes he’d ever seen. She looked up from her design table, smiled, and extended her hand for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Mia. Yes, I’m single, and yes, I’ll have dinner with you tonight. I should be done around six. Pick me up in front of the office.”

He stood there holding her hand, not knowing if he was shaking it or not. He remembered to breathe and suddenly felt like a dorky teenager at his first boy-girl party. After several awkward moments, he said, “Okay. Six sounds good. I’ll see you then. Uh, I’m JR.”

“Yes, I know. One of my friends works in the IT department at First National Bank. She was extremely impressed with you. I want to know if she was right to be impressed.” She smiled and returned to her work. “Don’t be late. I like Italian.” The rest of the tour, of which he remembered nothing, was a blur.

They had dinner at an Italian restaurant she suggested in the downtown area. She liked it because the food was authentic Italian and it featured an extensive wine list. She smiled when they sat down. “What kind of wine do you like?”

Diminski said, “Well, the only kind I’ve ever had was in college and it cost two bucks. I really didn’t care for it.”

She laughed. “Allow me, nothing beats a good Merlot.” 

Diminski could hear a slight accent, which he found intriguing. As the waiter poured their wine, he said, “Nice accent. Where’s it from?”

Mia smiled. “I was raised in Austin, Texas, by my grandparents. I’m a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin and a huge Dallas Cowboys’ fan.”

He chuckled. “You don’t look like a Texan.” He hesitated and then said, “You’re too… petite.”

She laughed. “I’ve been told that before.” She paused for a few seconds, took a sip of her wine, and continued. “My father came to the United States from China to study engineering at Berkley. My mom was there, supposedly, studying sociology. But, I think she was more interested in experiencing the culture than studying about it. They met, she fell in love, and I came along nine months later. Just about the time he graduated.”

She took another sip of Merlot and sighed. “According to my grandparents, after his graduation he disappeared. They believed he returned to China. He didn’t even tell my mother. She couldn’t handle being a single parent, too much of a burden, I guess. So she and I left California and went to Texas to live with her parents. After a few years, she grew restless. One day, she left a note telling my grandparents she was going back to California to join a commune. To my knowledge, they never saw her again. I continued to live with them. Pappy taught me how to be a Texan and Granny taught me how to think. I love them a lot. Wish they were still here.”

She grew silent, staring into the glass of wine. Diminski noticed she had said
love
, not
loved
. “Do you ever see your mom?”

“No,” she said with a hint of bitterness. “I tried several times to reach her when I was in high school. I wrote letters telling her what was going on and asking her to come and see me. But I never heard back. My grandparents never did understand what happened. They always believed, up until the day they each passed away, she would come back. They never said anything to me about her leaving, but I can imagine how much it hurt. After I graduated from college, I went to California to see if I could talk to her. The commune was still functioning, but I was told by several of the members she wasn’t receiving visitors. I gave up after that.” She looked up at JR. “I’ve never tried again.”

She looked back at her glass of wine. He could see tears welling up in her eyes. But suddenly she blinked a few times and was out of the funk. She smiled and returned her attention to him. “Okay, you’ve heard my sad tale. Tell me about yourself.”

Diminski wasn’t prepared, so he stayed as close to the truth as possible. That way it would be easier to remember what was said. “Not much to tell, really. I don’t remember too much about my parents. They were killed by a drunk driver one night coming home from the movies. I was six at the time. Both sets of grandparents were gone, so I was placed in a foster home. They were good to me, and I stayed there until I was out of high school. I joined the army to be all I could be. I had a knack with computers. So after they taught me to be a soldier, I received intensive training on computers. After the army, I went to college and graduated with a degree in computer science. I’ve been doing that ever since. I moved here about six months ago, and now I’m having dinner with you.”

Everything he told her was true. He just chose not to elaborate about the foster parents. They had been wonderful people and raised him like their own son. But, like her grandparents, they too had died some years ago.

Through their conversation, Diminski learned Mia was thirty one, six years younger than him. She was barely five feet tall, and he guessed her weight at a bit over a hundred pounds. Her smile was magnetic and her personality was anything but small.

“We have something in common,” Mia said. “We were both raised by someone besides our parents—interesting.”

He shrugged, “Not much we could do about it. Sometimes life happens.”

“Yeah, I guess. But it would be nice to at least meet my father. I sometimes wonder where he is and what he’s doing. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.”

“Do you know his name?”

She nodded. “His name is Chun Mao Ling. There must be at least thirty million Mao Lings in China. I’m not sure it would be worth the effort to find him.” She shrugged. “He hasn’t tried to find me.”

Feeling he was getting into another sad part of her life, he took a sip of wine. “I’m curious, why is an attractive, intelligent woman like you still single?”

She gave him a mischievous grin. “Haven’t met the right guy yet. And you?”

“Oh, I’ve met them. They just didn’t know they were the right girls.”

She laughed. “Well said. Let’s hope the next one you meet knows she’s the right one.” He was really starting to enjoy her smile and laugh.

She raised her wine glass. He lightly touched his to it and heard a crystal clink. “And when you meet your right guy, he knows it as well.”

A serious look crossed her face. She leaned forward and said, “Okay, mystery guy, what does the JR stand for?”

He shrugged. “It stands for JR.”

“Are you a junior, named after your dad?”

He shook his head. “Nope. That’s how it is on my birth certificate: JR. No first or middle name, just JR.” He felt he needed to steer the conversation away from this. He took another sip of wine suddenly remembering something. “Uh…” He hesitated and said nervously, “Uh, would you be interested in helping me pick out some furniture tomorrow?”

Mia smiled. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I’d love too. What’s the occasion?”

“Well, I’ve signed a lease on a one-floor apartment downtown. My current furniture consists of a mattress, a desk, and a broken-down sofa I bought at a garage sale. I’ve got to furnish two bedrooms, an office, a living room, a dining area, and a kitchen.” He shrugged. “I’ve got zero decorating sense and could really use some help.”

She laughed. “Oh my god, I’d love to. Do you have veto power?"

He shook his head. “Nope. It would be totally up to you.”

He would remember the look of joy on her face forever.

Five months since the incident: he had a new identity, a new career, a more permanent place to live, and someone special in his life. Maybe it was time to start seriously thinking about putting his past behind him and protecting this new life.

***

It was a Thursday evening; Diminski was killing time at a downtown pub waiting for Mia to join him. She had a deadline and was working late. The local news was on one of the overhead TVs in the bar area. He wasn’t really listening, just waiting for the upcoming sports report. The talking head on the screen was introducing a feature story about the increase in home break-ins around the metro area. After the story was over, the guy next to him started a rant. He was a distinguished-looking gentleman in his late fifties, salt-and-pepper hair, half-rim glasses, which sat low on his nose, and a solid white mustache and goatee. He bore a striking resemblance to the actor Morgan Freeman. His khaki chinos, white polo shirt, and navy-blue blazer gave him a professional look. The man said, “If more citizens were trained and prepared with firearms, that kind of crap wouldn’t happen.”

Diminski was politically neutral and didn’t care if someone was liberal or conservative. But he was intrigued with the man’s comment. “What do you mean?”

The gentleman looked over his glasses, smiled, and said, “I mean just what I said. Train the public to use firearms and these idiots wouldn’t be entering homes. They’d be afraid of getting their asses shot.”

Diminski thought back to his own military training. He was good with a rifle and pistol, having won all of the marksmanship tournaments he had ever entered. “Yeah, I see what you mean. What kind of training are you referring to?”

The gentleman smiled and offered his hand. “My name’s Joseph. I do that kind of training myself.”

Diminski shook it. “Nice to meet you. I’m JR. You’re talking about handguns, right? I didn’t know you could own one in this state.”

He nodded. “In Missouri you can and most of the surrounding states. You must not be from around here.”

“I am now, I moved here almost a year ago.” His thoughts went to Mia. Could this be a way to protect them if he was found? “I had a little training in the military. But, like you said, rifles aren’t real practical, unless you’re under siege by a horde of gangbangers.”

Joseph chuckled, nodded, and said, “I operate a security company. I also own a small gun shop and do CCW training for those who want to qualify.”

“What’s CCW?”

“Concealed carry of a weapon permit, allows the common citizen to carry a concealed handgun. A lot of states allow it; it’s just not publicized very much. Politicians love to vote for these types of bills. It keeps the NRA off their back. It’s unfortunate there’s so much negative discussion right now about guns in this country. With the right enforcement of current laws, we could keep guns out of the hands of the bad guys and train the good guys to defend themselves.”

Now Diminski was intrigued. He needed to get a security system for the condo. As the number of computers in his office increased, so did his risk. He said, “Looks like I just found someone to help with two problems. I need a security system for my home office, and I would like to get a concealed carry permit.”

Joseph reached into the inside pocket of his blazer, pulled out a business card and handed it to JR. “What type of business are you in?”

“Computer security. I do both corporate and financial.”

Now Joseph smiled. “I’ve got a problem myself. Let’s talk trade.”

***

Over the next several months, Joseph and JR became good friends. Joseph’s company installed a high-tech security system in JR’s condo, and JR designed a secure website for Joseph, allowing his company to increase its e-commerce presence on the internet. Plus they set up an agreement that Diminski’s company would be the subcontractor for any computer security Joseph needed for a client. JR completed his CCW qualifications, secured the permit through the Sheriff’s Department, and purchased a Glock 19. The significance of this event told him a background check into his new identity revealed no problems. His hope for the future improved.

***

One night, while JR waited for Mia to complete another long night, Joseph was talking and suddenly said, “JR, where did you go through boot camp?”

Without thinking, he said, “Fort Benning. Why?”

“You were on the pistol team in the spring of ninety-seven, weren’t you?”

JR paused before answering. He couldn’t determine if his answer would reveal too much. “Yeah. I was.”

“I knew it. I never forget how someone shoots. I can’t remember names, but I do remember how a person handles a pistol. After working with you on your CCW, I thought your style looked familiar. I just couldn’t place where.”

JR’s heart skipped a few beats. He stared at Joseph. “I don’t remember you. Did we meet?”

“No. I don’t think so. I was watching one of the competitions and remember several really good marksmen on the squad that year. You were one of them. Why didn’t you say anything while we worked on your permit?”

“It’s been awhile. Besides, it was no big deal. I was shooting because it kept me out of doing real duty.”