“Why the interest? You’re not investigating him, are you?”
“I just need to talk to someone who might have known him back then. Nothing is going to happen to Mr. Tanner.”
“I’ll have to ask my parents.”
“Could you check with them as soon as possible? ”
“And you swear this will not reflect badly on Tanner?”
“I’m sure he’s done nothing that would get him in trouble, right?” she replied, neatly turning the tables on him.
“Well, my parents always spoke very highly of him.”
“I’ll wait to hear from you. But as quickly as you can.”
“I’ll call them now. When can we get together again? I was thinking of taking the family jet down to St. Barts. We have a compound there. It would be fun.”
“I don’t have any time off now, Kevin, I’m sorry.”
“See, another reason to let me take care of you,” he said.
He clicked off, and she slowly put her phone away.
A kept woman? Yeah, really my life’s ambition.
She couldn’t deny that it had been fun flying around on private wings, going to great restaurants, and being driven from one fabulous family estate to another. But she could not see herself doing that for the rest of her life. It would seem a cop-out after all she had worked for. And she could only imagine how much Decker would hate it.
She settled back in her seat as a light rain began to fall. She thought about Decker down in Florida doing what Decker did better than anyone she had ever met.
And while I love the guy, and admire all that he can do, I can’t see myself working with him for the next twenty years, either. It’s just too exhausting. And while I like unpredictability to a certain extent, I can’t take it every single moment of every single day.
That was one reason she had sought the transfer to New York in the first place. Not to exactly get away from Decker, but just to have a reprieve, for a bit.
An hour later her phone rang.
Kevin said, “Okay, I spoke with my mother. Mrs. Tanner died three years ago, but there’s a daughter, Deidre. She’s in her fifties. She might be able to help you. I have her contact information. I’ll text it to you.”
“Thank you, Kevin. I owe you.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said. In a more earnest tone he added, “I really do love spending time with you, Alex. And I’m sorry for what I said before about chucking your job. That was stupid. And you don’t need anyone to take care of you. You do fine all by yourself.”
“Why this sudden change of heart?” she asked, her tone suspicious.
“Talking to my mother. Listening to her made me think how narrow-minded and shallow my family is.”
“Your family gives a lot to charity.”
“We only give enough to keep up with our ilk and put our name on buildings.”
“But you still do it, when you don’t really have to.”
“I suppose.”
This sort of talk was unusual for him, Alex noted, and she wondered where it was leading.
“I spend all my time making money because that was what I was taught that you did with your life. The fact is, my family has enough money. You’ve showed me another slice of life, Alex. One I needed to see. But for you, I’m just another guy born with a silver spoon in his mouth who thinks he made it all on his own. I had no clue about the reality of most peoples’ lives. Not that I couldn’t have discovered that on my own, and I should have. But I can thank you for showing me that side of life. It’s... it’s made me think. It’s made me think about what’s important. And what’s important is... I love being around you. Because... you’re just a terrific person. And you make me want to be a better person.”
This caught her by surprise. “That’s... that’s really nice to hear you say, Kevin.”
“Do you think we can get together at some point?”
She hesitated. “Yes. I’ll give you a call. And thanks for doing me this favor.”
“Okay, Alex, I hope it will help.”
“Me too.”
He clicked off and Jamison sat there, once more full of doubts.
Chapter 73
“Thanks for the info, Alex,” Decker said. “I really appreciate it.”
She said, “No problem. I hope it helps.”
“So, this guy you’re seeing? You don’t think it’s going to work out? Does that mean you’ll be heading back to DC at some point?”
“Um, I’m not sure, Amos. I’ll have to let you know. But keep me in the loop on your case.”
“Sure, okay.”
He clicked off and stared down at his phone.
It’s her life, Decker, not yours.
He looked at the contact information she had forwarded him. Deidre Fellows. Divorced and in her midfifties. That meant she would have been a teenager back in 1981. He wondered if she had been in Miami that night. Fortunately for him, Fellows now lived in Florida. On Sanibel Island, not that far from Fort Myers.
He called White and filled her in.
“Sanibel tomorrow morning then?” she said.
“Yeah. I’ll call the woman ahead of time. Hopefully, she’ll agree to meet with us.”
“And if she won’t?”
“A bridge to cross if we get to it.”
The next morning they set off.
“So she said she’d talk to us?” asked White as she guided the rental out of the hotel parking lot.
“I left a message. She didn’t call back.”
“Okay, so why are we going there?”
“To cross that bridge.”
There were actually three separate bridges to cross to get to Sanibel from the mainland, although all three were referred to collectively as the Sanibel Causeway.
When they arrived at the house, there was a large gate blocking access. Between Fellows’s house and the property next door, they could see the water. A call box was set up next to the gate. White rolled down her window and pushed the button.
“Yes?” a voice said.
“It’s the FBI. Agents White and Decker to see Ms. Fellows.” She glanced at Decker before turning back to the call box. “We left her a message last night.”
“Ms. Fellows is not available.”
“When will she be available?”
“You’ll have to call and make an appointment.”
“We did. But no one called back.”
“Thank you.”
“Hello? Hello?” White looked over at Decker.
“Roll your window back up,” he said.
She did.
Decker said, “Okay, I’m sure someone is watching us. Let’s drive away. Off this street we turn right, go halfway down, and wait in the parking lot of the dry cleaners we passed. That’s the only way in or out.”
“Okay, but wait for what?”
“A black Mercedes convertible was pulling out of the garage up there. But then it stopped and reversed out of sight. You didn’t notice because you were talking to the person on the box. I think that was Ms. Fellows. If we leave, she might just go on her way. And we can follow.”
“And if it’s not her?”
“Then it’s someone who knows her and we can talk to that person as a way to convince Fellows to see us. Short of that we’ll need a warrant or a subpoena, and we don’t have nearly enough evidence to get either one.”
White did as Decker asked, and they parked in the lot with the dry cleaners.
A half hour later, a black Mercedes convertible drove past. Its top was down, and driving it was a stylishly dressed woman in her fifties.
“I looked her up online last night,” said Decker. “That’s her. Hit it.”
White pulled out into traffic and kept three cars behind the Benz. They followed for about ten minutes until Fellows pulled into the parking lot of a spa. She got out and headed toward the door.