Broken Toys | Chapter Twenty-Eight
Six-thirty in the morning and finally, Mezler's jet touched down at Redding Municipal Airport. The summer day already seemed warm at a toasty eighty degrees. Good thing most of the day would be spent in the air conditioned rental car. He wouldn't be happy with the Toyota RAV 4, but the rental agency didn't have much of a selection. At any rate, it's better than a sedan for our purposes.
I was right. As soon as he disembarked from the jet and walked over to me on the airstrip, he said, "Really, Kahan?" while staring at the SUV.
"Sir, I thought it prudent to stay in the local area, rather than traveling to Sacramento to get something more luxurious." I fiddled with my smartphone, readying a voice-recording app. If I was going to be stuck in a car for several hours with the prime suspect responsible for the disappearance of the prize from a massive FBI bust, you bet your ass I wanted to have some evidence of her fate.
He pursed his lips like a spoiled kid offered cake with no frosting. "Fine. Do we know where she is?"
"Last report was that she went north to Portland, Oregon and is traveling south again, with intentions to stay at a hippy commune in the woods near the East Park Reservoir. We can try to intercept her in Oregon, or we can wait for her to make it to the commune."
Mezler got in the backseat of the Toyota. "We intercept her."
It never failed to surprise me how he never asked for details for confirmation or my sources. Just blind faith that I would not, could not, lead him astray. "She should be driving a yellow VW Beetle with New York plates ending in H3L." Good luck finding that combo in this neck of the woods. Our wild goose has just been let loose.
"Let's go, then! She needs to come home where she belongs. Why the hell would she want to join a hippy commune?"
I got in, started the car and made my way to I5. Got in the northbound lanes and started the journey to Oregon. "Perhaps she thought you would never find her at such a place?"
"She should know better. I'll always find what's mine."
Rolled my eyes. Puh-leeze. Then ice rolled down my spine when he said, "What I want to know is how she got out of the house. Something's wrong with that aspect."
Took a deep breath and said, "Wish I knew, sir. I've never had the drop on me like that. I want to find those responsible for my own reasons sir. I'm sure you can understand why."
Saw him nod reflected in the rear-view mirror. "Yes. Getting your own drop on them, no doubt."
I smiled. "Yes, sir. Exactly that." Shadow boxing I supposed would have to suffice since without a doubt Fergus could have fucked me up beyond all recognition had he chosen to do so.
My passanger sat in silence for nearly two hours, staring out the window or fiddling with his phone, until he muttered, "Stupid fucking insurance company. Fucking pay up or get a new client."
"Sir?" I couldn't resist asking. My ears perked when he mentioned insurance. Life? House? Property? Car? Which insurance issue was he having? Did he take out life insurance on Margot or Nyssa in hopes of cashing in?
"Fire at the stud farm early this morning. Pump house, generator, pump. Not much damage, but the shack burned to the ground and they won't have an adjuster available for two days."
That was news to me. The man is wealthy enough that whether the insurance paid or not, the whole shebang could easily be replaced. But he was a man of certain principals and that was one, evidently.
"Sir, the morning news has reported Margot Ivanov missing. If she can't be found, there will be no way for her to recant the confession she made to the authorities."
That seemed to stir him. "Missing? Hopefully that stupid bitch is dead in the ocean and unable to pollute humanity anymore."
Wow. That was the first time I ever heard him voice anything resembling that sentiment about Ivanov. "She was removed from custody, they got a male figure on security camera, so whoever that was would have the perfect opportunity to do arrange her demise." Combined with the bloody clothes Maisie found, and this new knowledge that a potential crime scene had been torched. Things weren't looking particularly well for Mr. Mezler.
He couldn't sit still and it seemed to confirm my suspicions. Mezler fidgeted with the window, cracking it and leaning his head in such a way the air went straight into his face. When we neared Ashland, just over the Oregon border, the boss told me to find a rest room. Pulled into the nearest Starbucks. He ran in, and I hurriedly saved the conversation recording I made before calling Gaia.
"News?" She barked out the single word as a greeting.
"Yeah. Get a warrant for Mezler's stud farm. Last night a building caught on fire and he made the comment that hopefully she's dead and in the ocean-- his farm does include coastline. Plus I got a call from the housekeeper that she picked up Mezler's clothes when he came home from his adventures last night. They were covered in blood."
"That's not the news we wanted, but we'll take it. If we find her anywhere near his property, he will be arrested."
I breathed deep. "If he gets arrested, it's only a matter of hours before his lawyer will bail him out, and he'll run. I can't picture him staying put for a trial unless his assets are frozen and a judge declares him at risk for flight."
"Thanks for the update. I'll see what strings I can pull, but you stay next to his side and DO NOT permit him out of your sight."
"Yes, ma'am."
Gaia hung up just as Mezler walked through the Starbucks exit, a coffee in one hand and a pastry in the other.
As soon as he got into the car, he asked, "Any news?"
"Yes, sir. To Medford, we should intercept her around there. It's about two hours." The smell of the boss' coffee tickled my nose and I highly doubted he'd let me go inside and fetch my own. No use in asking. Next time I fill up the tank, I'll get some energy drinks.
Frustration sat in his voice. "I should have flown my helicopter. We'd have her by now."
Clearing my throat, I replied, "She would expect that, sir. I don't think she'd assume you coming after her in a car."
"I'd come for her over broken glass. She should know that." Absolute certainty shone in his statement.
Made me wonder if wild berry brambles counted?