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Rational Conduct

By Kevin Tatro (US)

Chapter Eleven

Taking Care of Loved Ones

Chapter 11 – Taking Care of Loved Ones

The Feds had been at the house ever since this nightmare started, and they didn’t show any signs of leaving.  The two remaining children were doing OK, but they had to stay in the house.  Friends could come and visit, but the owners couldn’t leave the house.  This was tough on everyone, and Kelly was just about ready to snap.  The Feds had wanted her to stay home in case there was a ransom call, or her husband called. 

This morning, there were a dozen agents at the house, and it already seemed like they were growing tired of the case, and felt at a loss of what to do.  The local police tried to keep the press and onlookers away, but it was an impossible job.  People who knew the family called to offer help, neighbors brought over meals, and strange people and cars slowed in front of the house night and day.

“I can’t take it.  The kids are going crazy and he hasn’t even called me.” 

The fugitive, burglar, killer, general’s wife went to meet her father and mother at their house for breakfast Sunday morning.  Her husband and daughter had been missing for almost twenty-four hours, and she had to ask an FBI guy if she could have breakfast with her parents.  She started crying uncontrollably.  Her mother and father, now in their mid seventies, held hands on her shoulders as she wept.  Mom was a nurse, and though she hadn’t practiced in years, she had advice for everyone.  She had advice for her daughter now, but could not speak.  Nothing she could say would make anything better.  As the days went on and her daughter grew more tired and withered, she would have advice for her then.  It would be good advice, and her daughter would listen.  Mom’s advice and cooking would keep her healthy, but it would not bring her husband or her child home.

Dad held his daughter tight.  He was a no nonsense kind of guy who kept a straight face most of the time.  He had held one job his entire life, and slow and steady defined this man.  A series of three heart attacks had nearly taken his life, but he stood tall at this moment.  Another heart attack would have to wait.  He was an important man right now.  He held information nobody else on the planet knew of.

Grandpa had gone to the store that morning, for bagels and orange juice.  They had plenty of food in the house, and Grandma knew her daughter wouldn’t eat, but she had sent him out for it anyway.  They had spent the entire night at their daughter’s house, but the constant shuffling of local cops, federal agents, news media, and friends of the family had made them weary and very tired.  The local fire department had been kind to grandpa, visiting the home and monitoring him while he popped nitroglycerin tablets.  Grandma and Grandpa would do no one any good in the hospital, and so they returned home. 

Dad had been happy to go for breakfast.  He was tired and stressed out bad, and needed some semblance of his old life.  He went out to the Dunkin Donuts as he used to do regularly.  He had bought a half a dozen bagels, even a cinnamon raison for David, who he assumed was pretty unlikely to show up.  He was worried as he pulled a ten dollar bill from his money clip, and maybe he was a bit slower than usual getting the money out, but he came sharply alive when the stranger insisted in paying for Grandpa’s bagels.

The man looked Grandpa straight in the eye, and simply said, “I’m sorry for your troubles.  Please let me get this for you.”  The stranger said no more, but paid the Dunkin Donuts attendant, and walked Grandpa to his car.  Neither of them said a word as the man simply commented “Good day.” and seemed to disappear.  Grandpa had thought it strange.  A minor distraction that took his mind off things for a while.  He thought of telling his wife about it when he returned home.  It would be a minor distraction for her as well.  She had her own share of heart troubles, and could use a few moments thinking about something other that the disappearance of her smallest grandchild.  Everyone always teased Grandma about Ashley being her favorite, but nobody teased now.

 Neither Grandpa nor the stranger ever saw another man watching the whole thing from across the street.  The tall thin man in dark glasses across the street walked around the corner and disappeared.

When Grandpa got home, he had forgotten about the Good Samaritan.  Even the man buying him breakfast hadn’t provided much of a diversion or glimmer of faith in mankind.  The event was so small in grandpa’s current world where he could think of nothing else but his missing granddaughter.  Grandma, who loved all of her grandchildren more than herself, was really crushed by the loss of the little one.  Grandpa had about all he could take, and was just about to cry when he opened the donut bag and didn’t find any bagels inside. 

The orange juice from the Stop and Shop was there on the counter.  With the empty plastic bag that contained nothing else.  But there were no bagels.  He turned over the bag in his hand which was clearly labeled Dunkin Donuts.  There was no other bag around.  He must have mixed them up at the store.  He looked into the bag again, certain he had grabbed somebody else’s order.  He was a bit shy to look at the contents of the bag that didn’t belong to him and was obviously none of his business, yet it contained a note and two small packages.  He started to look away and close the bag as it was none of his business, but the note caught his eye.  DEAR GRANDPA….

He read the note alone in his bedroom.  Hiding from his wife who was busy washing and rinsing glasses that had been cleaned days before.  Something about washing the same glass ten times seemed to make her feel better.  Like she was washing the problem away, as she used to wash bacteria away at the hospital forty years ago.  He worried about her.  He worried a lot, but now he really worried about her.  She was being so strong, he knew that this would kill her, except that she couldn’t accept a negative outcome, and would behave stoically until her heart broke and she dropped on the spot.  He couldn’t take thinking about it any more.  He opened the bag and read the note.

 I CAN’T TELL YOU ANYTHING OTHER THAN TO TELL KELLY I LOVE HER AND GIVE HER THIS BOX.  KEEP THE OTHER BOX FOR YOURSELF. DO NOT OPEN THE BOX IN PUBLIC, AND TELL KELLY TO OPEN HER’S ALONE. YOU CAN TELL NO ONE YOU EVER SAW THIS.  NO ONE AT ALL. DO NOT LET THE BOX OUT OF YOUR HANDS UNTIL YOU GIVE IT TO KELLY.  LOVE YOU.  DAVID

That is it.  The guy is gone.  The world has gone insane, and that’s all he could write.

Grandpa was an ex-marine, and knew the importance of following orders.  David knew that.  It wasn’t really an order, but this was war and he was involved.  He may be upset with his son in law, but he would do his obligation here.  He understood war.  As Grandma washed the dishes again, Grandpa took Kelly into his bedroom and pulled out the box, along with the note.  He showed her both and then left the room without saying a word, locking the door behind him.

That day, several other people would get a little box as well.  David’s brothers and sisters, his parents, and even Grandma and Grandpa.  All of them delivered by some strange man or woman who seemed to disappear before anyone could ask a question.  Each of the delivery people presented the box and left quickly.  Each unaware of being watched by yet another, out of sight and unobserved.

Kelly had the toughest time following the instructions in the little box.  She was constantly under the surveillance of police and FBI, and anyone else who entered her home as if they owned the place.  Her husband’s instructions were hard to follow, not because she didn’t understand what she had to do.  She didn’t really know what he wanted her to do.   And while she questioned her husband’s sanity on a regular basis, she somehow knew what he was telling her to do was right.  Technically, she was not under arrest, and could go anywhere she wanted to.

It was Sunday afternoon when Kelly made her announcement  “We are going out. She said with authority.

The man in charge tried to stop her.  He called his boss, and the boss’ boss.  They offered escorts, suggestions, and even began to demand she tell them where she was going, for how long, and with whom.  She never stated where she was going or for how long, but simply indicated she and her two remaining children had to get out of the house, and that her parents could take care of things if needed.  She would be back in an hour or two if she felt like it, but might be gone longer if she and the kids were having fun. 

Agent Collier had been one of the nicest of all the pleasant people in her house over the past two days.  She was younger than Kelly and had no kids, but just like the movies, she was the understanding young Fed in the group of men who tried to be nice but who couldn’t know what it was like to be a woman.  It was Collier that suggested they let her go for air.  Collier saw that Kelly had left her pocketbook on the counter.  Collier had gone to the car window earlier to see just how much gas was in the car.  Kelly couldn’t go far.  She had no credit cards, money, license or gas.  She wouldn’t go far and she would be back soon.

Kelly and the kids drove to the local shopping mall where she caught a cab that took her to the local train station that would take them all to Manhattan.  The ride was an hour and twenty-five minutes from their suburban Connecticut home.  Arriving at Grand Central Station, as always, she looked up at the massive sprawling domed ceiling that hung over the football field sized station.  Nothing had changed, yet everything looked different to her.  The painted stars and the little lights in the painted sky above her held more meaning.  She believed in fate, and somehow she could see the Gods in the stars much as the ancient Greeks did.  She could feel the creatures in the sky stretching hands to reach out to each other, and she felt the creatures in the sky formed a world that somehow made sense.  The struggle up there was obvious, and she felt her troubled place in the world was set by the stars, somehow by fate.

The kids always enjoyed coming here.  Whether they were coming to meet dad, or just on a shopping spree, they loved Manhattan.  People everywhere.  The tallest buildings in the world.  Noise.  Food.  And shopping.  They rarely bought anything in the expensive shops here, but they loved looking.  Funny how they picked up Mom and Dad’s habits.  The clothes somehow looked better at Sachs on Fifth Ave, but they could buy them cheaper in the mall near home. 

This trip was different for the girls.  They didn’t get dressed up; they had no money, and didn’t have any idea where mom was taking them.  Ashley and dad weren’t here, and the kids somehow doubted they were going shopping.  Weaving in and out of New Yorkers, she made her way to the East side of the terminal, where her husband had often taken her to the downtown number 4 and 6 subway station.  She wasn’t lost or confused, as she always seemed to be when David was around.  When he was here, she had time to stare at the people, to be confused by the one hundred and thirty loading platforms, and to be nervous of all the people moving around her like a swarm of ants.  She used to notice the vagrants who tried to fit in, and the business people impatiently waiting for their trains.  Now all she noticed were the damn out-of-towners her husband complained about.

The kids were in tow as usual.  They noticed nothing different.  But mom immediately noted the difference between New Yorkers and the out-of-towners.  New Yorkers move fast and with a purpose.  If a crowd of twenty are coming straight at you they will turn slightly sideways right as they get to you, making themselves somewhat thinner than their broad shoulders.  And they will dip and weave to get their handbags past you.  They look terrifying coming straight at you without slowing, but they know what they are doing.  The tourists are bad, as they always seemed to be looking the other way.  They are a lot like sign posts or street signs that are sometimes in the way but usually stationary.  The out-of-towners are the worst as they move fast and almost seem to know what they are doing, but they are unpredictable, turning at the last moments.  They lack the skill required to slide through the crowds, crashing into people as they hurry on their way with purpose, using their Boston or west coast skills to try to get past the annoying crowds.  They definitely don’t have the shoulder thing down.

After crashing into a few of the incompetent amateurs, Kelly and the kids descended into the subway, taking the Times Square Shuttle over toward Penn station.  The girls were great.   No complaints at all.  As a matter of fact, nobody had really said anything since they got on the train and mom wouldn’t say where she was taking them.  This may have been normal in dad’s world, but this was definitely a bad thing in the world of three girls who normally talked non-stop.  She would have to try to deal with this.  Later

Kelly felt a bit foolish when she came out of the times square station, and hopped in a cab that took her only a couple of blocks to Penn Station.  She gave the cabbie a ten for a four dollar fair, and didn’t look back for the change.  Something about having piles of cash in her pocket made her forget that she was normally a really cheap tipper.  She would catch a train, a cab, another train, and then some other mode of transportation.

David’s brothers and sisters had a bit more trouble following their instructions.  They had jobs.  David’s oldest brother didn’t follow the instructions at all.  He brought his little box to his bank and locked it up in his safe deposit box.  He wasn’t running from anything.  He didn’t know what was going on, and he had no details that could hurt anyone.  He was going nowhere.

David’s other brother and his two sisters had kids, and they were a bit scared.  They had been freaked out by the Ashley kidnapping, but this freaked them out.  David’s note assured them they had nothing to worry about, but they were still freaked out.   They called work and told everyone they needed to take time off to be with their brother.  They all took their little brown boxes, left their wallets and credit cards behind, and disappeared on vacation, paid for by some rich computer nerd.  Strange, leaving for vacation with no identity, no car, and telling no one where you are going.  Leaving home without knowing where you are going, having a plane flight, a reservation, or even an ID. Nothing.

Everyone had trouble with this.  Scott had the most difficulty.  With three little kids and no transportation, he never knew how bad bus service was in LA. He always took his car.   Sally had it better. She took a train to Manhattan, and went through Penn station after Kelly.  They never saw each other on the train ride to Florida.  Sally disappeared into the maze of hotels in Orlando, taking shuttle buses between the theme parks and a new hotel every night.  She was a bit surprised that they hotel owners never really cared what your name was if you stayed in the smaller places and paid cash.  Her three children had a great time, and she did too, in between wondering what was going on.

Betsy always wanted to rent a boat, and her family left from Fort Lauderdale in a rented yacht.  Her husband was a pretty resourceful guy, and got a good deal on a nice two bedroom cruiser.  He would stick close to the coast since he had no idea how to drive a boat, and had no idea where he was going.  The three of them had a great time with daughter Katy getting to steer the ship, and buy food and new clothing every time they stopped.  The money they had was great, and would certainly get them through a few weeks, maybe more if needed.

Scott eventually made his was to Mexico.  Crossing into Mexico was no problem on a train from San Diego.  He might have a bit of trouble getting back in with no ID, but that could wait for later.  They settled in a nice timeshare resort that didn’t seem to have any problem renting a place to a family with no ID.  Cash was definitely OK.

Kelly’ sister and brother in law picked up grandma and grandpa in a car borrowed from a friend of a friend.  They would park the car in Vermont, taking a train to Canada, where they would travel by rail across the entire country.
 
Kelly and the kids needed deep cover.  They had made their way to Florida on a train, and now took a boat.  An old cruise ship would take her and her two children to the Florida Keys, where they would rent a small house on a rocky beach and spend their days lounging in the sun.  The kids would tan and talk quietly about how spooky all of this was while Kelly would worry about everything.  She would wait here for a couple of days, and plot the next move to another state, or someplace even more remote.  The girls would go out each morning for food, a few new cloths, and a copy of the New York Times

David picked up a laptop with satellite connection. That was easy to pick up at any high-end store.   Artie supplied the satellite transmissions, compliments of NASA, the CIA or somebody else whose systems were nowhere near as sophisticated as the computer geek.  The detectives E-mailed David, indicating all packages had been delivered without a hitch.  As far as they could tell, nobody had seen the delivery folks meet with their connections, and they assured their client that none of the delivery people had seen them spying on them, assuring they did their jobs and were not followed.  Additionally, they were certain none of the packages had been opened, and all were delivered.  Again, interesting what cash can do.  Detective agencies have no problem following someone who they don’t know and assuring they deliver packages to someone else they don’t know.  It must be nice to be really rich.

The kids in SoHo must have been thrilled.  Seven good-natured slackers in a small club had each been given a task of delivering good news to somebody who really needed it.  They were given the name address and picture of each, and enough cash to get them where they needed to go and back.  When they returned to the club the next night, they would each be paid, if they delivered the packages on time, discretely, and unopened.  That night they would laugh about the strange rich dude with spiked yellow hair who gave them each a grand for making the run.  They had wondered what was so important in the little boxes, but none ever opened it.  Each was as certain as the next, that this was part of some reality TV show, and that they would be a TV hero on MTV or something.  It was a bit of a bummer for each when they returned to the club turned over the pictures and addresses and received an envelope with ten hundred-dollar bills.  They liked the money, but really wanted to be on TV.

David was concerned for his remaining family, but was intent on working quickly now.  He had contacted them and he did what he could to make them safe.  He was gonna get really crazy now, and it was no time to be worried about family.  Last night he had gone over the edge, and now the bastards were going to pay.  Sandy Adwert was the next one who would pay.  Sandy lived on Staten Island.  He was a writer like our buddy Brian.  David had no gun, but he was just a bit more than crazed. He wasn’t scared of some guy named Sandy.