Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2) (7 page)

At 9:00 A.M. sharp on a Monday morning in early October, Marshall Real Estate Services was open for business. The owner/operator of the company was in the building. ‘The staff’ Jessie Knowles was not, however, on the premises.

Maggie had been in her office since 7:30 AM following her week-end jaunt with her VIF (Very Intimate Friend) Max Hargrove. She was catching up on her scheduled tasks and planning her day of appointments, visits with clients and cold calls for new contacts. She was relaxed and had a contented mind-set up until now. A check of the office phone showed two missed calls from the previous Friday, one at 3:50 PM and one at 4:10 PM. She recognized the caller’s number on the 4:10 call as one of her lender clients, so she was waiting to check with her young ‘office manager’ for the explanation as to why the calls were missed.

The wall clock showed 9:18 AM and Jessie had not appeared this morning. Maggie was concerned and, at the same time, irritated. Jessie had gained her confidence as being reliable and trustworthy. Maggie began to wonder whether she was that way during instances when ‘the boss’ was away. She called Jessie’s cell phone and, while it was ringing, Jessie came rushing in through the office door, flushed and panting.

“Maggie, Hi!” she blurted out. “Sorry about being late, my car had a flat tire. I called Triple-A and they came and put the spare tire on.” Maggie returned the greeting and asked Jessie if everything was okay. Nodding in the affirmative, but with no further details, Jessie reached her desk. As was her usual routine, she immediately checked the office phone for calls and messages.

“There are a couple of calls, do you want me to return them, or would you rather do it?” she asked, hoping that Maggie hadn’t noticed the times.

“See what the 3:50 call from Friday is about and I’ll call the other,” Maggie responded in a business-like manner. Jessie, flabbergasted at being caught being absent before closing time on Friday, tacitly went about returning the call.

Maggie could sense that Jessie, with this tense demeanor, was out of character.
It might be because I am being stern with her coming in late and leaving early on Friday,
she thought silently. Ordinarily she would have gotten a phone call from Jessie with an explanation as soon as she walked into the office, or else, it could be something personal. Thinking it might be a personal matter, Maggie decided to give her some time to bring it up on her own volition.

Around 10:15 AM, as Maggie was preparing to leave for a meeting on her appointment schedule, Jessie approached her.

“Maggie, could I have a quick word, or two, with you before you go?” she asked. Maggie agreed, since she had ten to fifteen minutes leeway.

“What is it Jessie? Is everything okay?” Maggie asked.  Jessie went on to say that a man had called for ‘Ms. Marshall’ around 12:30 PM Friday and insisted on stopping by the office. When Jessie explained that her manager was not expected back until Monday, the ‘gentleman’ became belligerent and insisted that he knew the office address, and would be stopping by at 4:00 PM, and he would be expecting to meet with her ‘boss’ at that time. Alone in the office, with nobody else  expected to be there in case the ominous-sounding visitor came by as he had threatened, Jessie, at around 3:30 PM, began to panic. She had rationalized that the best resolution to the dilemma would be to lock the office and leave early.

“Well, you probably made the right choice,” Maggie consoled her. “We could report this to the authorities but they will need some type of identification. Did the calling number show on the phone when you picked up?”

“I didn’t notice at the time,” Jessie admitted. “I was kind of nervous, I guess. But as I drove to my apartment I had the feeling that a car with a man driver was following me, so I decided to detour to my boyfriend’s house. That way if anybody was following me they wouldn’t have my address. Thinking back, I’m sorry that I didn’t leave you a note, but who would have thought I would have a flat tire this morning.”

Maggie had to leave for her appointment. She gave Jessie the benefit of the doubt, consoled her, and told her to get the caller’s number if he calls again. “Politely indicate that you will leave the message, and call me right away.” Maggie instructed, as she left the office.

The day was ordinary as Maggie went about following her schedule. There was no drama beyond that which had occurred with Jessie earlier that morning. The thoughts relating to the ominous caller, however, swirled through the background of her mind, off and on. The thoughts had immediately sprung into vivid reality when, having stopped for a late lunch at her usual eating place in East Wayford, her friend, Jerry the proprietor, gave her an odd message. A man had stopped in and asked if she had been in lately. Jerry sensed that the stranger didn’t know Maggie personally so he played it carefully. First, he asked who was asking. The man explained that Maggie didn’t know him but that he had important information for her. He left a card with his cell phone number and asked if Jerry would see that Maggie got it when she came in next. The card showed ‘Richard L. Spader, Private Investigator’.

After her lunch at Jerry’s Jug, and while on the way to her last appointment, Maggie checked in with her office. She was informed by Jessie that the same man had called again. This time she got his name. It was Spader. Maggie calmly thanked Jessie, indicating that the call would be returned and that Jessie could rest assured that it would be taken care of. Maggie began to develop a feeling of being stalked.

That evening Maggie called Max at his Lakeside apartment.

“How was your first day back at work Max? Did you have a hangover from the Nova Scotia trip?” Maggie asked. Max answered in the negative, and indicated that some mystery still hung in the air but that he couldn’t go into it further. Maggie went on to tell him about the ‘Spader’ person and how he had badgered Jessie. Max suggested that, if she agreed to meet with the strange inquirer, she could play it safe by setting up the meeting at the East Wayford Tennis Club where she and Max were members. There would be friends there to keep an eye on the situation.

“Thanks for the suggestion Max, but I think I can handle myself quite well, thank you,” she said with faked haughtiness.

“I think you handle yourself quite well also, babe!” he countered as they shared a laugh.They both had things to ponder as they bid each other goodnight.

From her office on Wednesday morning Maggie returned the call to Mr. Spader. The call receptionist forwarded it to a cell phone, and a meeting with Spader at 3:00 PM that afternoon was agreed upon. Maggie’s question as to the purpose of the meeting had been flagged off with, “not to be discussed over the phone.”

After her afternoon appointments had been completed, Maggie left word with Jessie that she would be meeting with Mr. Spader at the East Wayford Tennis Club restaurant. She instructed Jessie to call her cell phone at exactly 3:15 with an ‘urgent message’ which Maggie could use for an excuse to leave. She felt that it would be enough time to hear what Mr. Spader had to say.

Maggie arrived at the club early and had time to chat with some fellow members, friends that she and Max had known for some time. Having been asked to make up a foursome in a tennis game, she declined, explaining that she had arranged a meeting with a ‘strange man.’ The friends, accustomed to her relationship with Max, kidded her about the ‘date’, telling her that they would be keeping an eye on her so that they could report it to Max when he came to the club.

“Please do,” she responded. “That is the main reason I arranged the meeting here. I have no idea who he is and what his game is. All I know is that he scared the hell out of Jessie, my secretary, last week, threatening to arrive at my office while I was away.”  Maggie then asked the bartender to seat them in a separate but conspicuous table when the man named Spader arrived.

At 3:05, Richard Spader walked into the club lounge and asked the bartender for Maggie. Seated at the far end of the bar sipping her ginger ale, Maggie signed her tab and remained seated until the tall, rather heavy-set man dressed in a wrinkled sport jacket and khaki leisure pants approached her.

“Are you Margaret Marshall?” he asked. When Maggie acknowledged that she was, he continued. “This is for you,” he said, extending a business-sized white envelope to her.

Bemused at the abruptness, Maggie opened the envelope and stared at the contents. It was a summons to appear at 8:30 A.M. in Superior Court, New Haven, Connecticut on October 21, 2010.

“What the h…,” she stammered.

“Good day to you, madam,” said the stranger, as he turned on his heel and exited the club lounge.

Maggie was stunned, to say the least. Racing thoughts coursed through her brain. She wondered if this was connected to her trip with Max. After all, they did enter and exit another country. Did someone forget to include her on the pre-arranged customs by-pass or was the summons business-connected with Marshall Real Estate Services? Off hand, she didn’t recall having any personal conflicts, nor was she aware of any complaints having been lodged against her. One thing was obvious, Maggie needed some legal advice.

With no further appointments scheduled, Maggie decided to stop by Eugene VanDyke’s office on her way back to her apartment. ‘Gene’ VanDyke was the most capable, and the most trustworthy attorney that she knew. He was the mayor of their small town, a part-time occupation which allowed him adequate time to maintain a law practice. He specialized in business law but would represent friends and acquaintances when requested, conferring with other lawyers in cases that were beyond his area of expertise.  Maggie and Max had seen Gene in action and both agreed that they would prefer to be represented by him, rather than be up against him, in a legal dispute.

It was around 3:30 that afternoon when Maggie went to Gene VanDyke’s office. She received a friendly greeting from him and explained her concern with having been served with the summons. With a glance at the writ he told her, “Relax and wait for me to get the details.” They went on with a half hour of catching-up conversation covering the two years since the serial killing episode in which she and Max had been falsely suspected as being the perpetrators. During this conversation, Maggie silently marveled at the transformation this elderly man had gone through, enduring a series of surgical procedures to correct a jaw misalignment he had been born with. The abnormality had affected his speech throughout his life and had interfered with his law career. The impediment, combined with a south-eastern Massachusetts accent, had hindered his effectiveness in presenting arguments to jury panels and judges. To Maggie, the transformation was phenomenal.  She did not mention the correction since she didn’t want to let on that she had noticed the speech problem, previously.

Back in the apartment later, having had an early-supper-for-one and a glass of good wine, Maggie called Max. He was puzzled as to the subpoena but, since Maggie had consulted Gene VanDyke, he was not overly concerned. Maggie’s recounting of the change in his speech pattern amazed Max. He would not have believed that the correction was surgically possible.

The balance of the conversation covered a variety of possibilities as to the source and reason for the summons, none of which seemed likely. There was no conclusive resolution to the puzzle this evening and the two close companions bid each other a good night.

During this week, while Maggie dealt with the questions surrounding her being served with the summons, Max was delving to get answers to some questions as well. He wondered about their drinks being drugged that night in Nova Scotia. Maggie hadn’t had any of her second drink and had not experienced any adverse reaction, but they were assuming that her drink was drugged also. The misty, blurred vision of the Native Indian servers at the café, seemingly performing some sort of ceremony was still weighing on his mind. The airplane which had followed their same heading and altitude while on the way to Nova Scotia, breaking away when he slowed the floatplane, was also in Max’s thoughts.

On the following morning after his return to USAP headquarters, he had given a briefing to Chip Chaplain and Danyel Uhlman, the only Partners in attendance that morning. For some reason, he really didn’t know why, Max avoided mentioning the matters that he pondered and gave a straight forward recap of his impressions regarding the Bickford Marine Laboratory property with a commitment to providing a detailed appraisal within days. He did mention his surprise at the generous number of Native Indian workers in the area.

Chip asked his opinion on the feasibility of buying the family-owned business along with the property. Max indicated that he would need to audit the company’s past three fiscal years for the business valuation, but that the USAP Partnership could consider leasing back the building and operating equipment to the existing business following the purchase, at least for a while. ‘Dannie’ asked if Maggie had enjoyed the trip.

“She seemed to enjoy herself and wanted me to thank the Partnership for the inclusion,” he answered. “Although, as usual when we travel together, it was more of a ‘working vacation’ for her. She had a financial business discussion with the local banker who has provided operating capital and apparently holds a mortgage on the property. He just happened to show up while we were inspecting the operation. She got some tips on how the businesses typically deals with local fiscal issues. That will help during an operations audit,” he concluded.

“I take it she was comfortable with the piloting”, Dannie kidded.