had calmly put him in his place. He hated the man standing before him, dressed in his white uniform, the gold epaulets shouting dignified authority. He decided to fire him as soon as his $100-million investment was out of harm’s way.
“You can count on it, sir. I wish you and Miss Navarro a good evening. I will remain at your disposal should you need anything from our staff,” he stated with a modest bow from the waist, backing toward the door without turning his back on his employer.
Captain Suarez sensed that this would surely be the last time he would skipper the beautiful Jurassic. So be it, he thought, as he gently closed the door behind him.
SEVENTEEN
Bernalillo, New Mexico
Sarah Marshall stared out the picture window of her expansive, tan-colored adobe home. A sudden movement caught her attention. A roadrunner darted a zigzag path across the shallow ravine near her backyard, closely pursued by a coyote desperately trying to run the bird down. She broke a thin smile and thought: Beep, beep. The hapless young coyote hadn’t yet learned he was outmatched in the roadrunner’s native sagebrush habitat.
Sarah took pleasure in the view from her home. She could see the southern end of the Sandia Mountains that dominated the small town of Placitas, just north of Albuquerque. The traditional Southwest adobe home sat high in the foothills overlooking the Rio Grande Valley below. The view from Placitas was especially alluring at night with thousands of lights shimmering in the desert air. She and Ryan had fallen in love with this area of New Mexico, rejecting the more metropolitan lifestyle of Albuquerque, where they were both raised. Placitas offered the perfect combination of open space and quiet solitude, which Sarah craved, and a close proximity to family and friends-Albuquerque was only thirty-five minutes away.
Placitas was also close to the town of Bernalillo, the headquarters of Levitation Solutions, Inc. Sarah enjoyed the flexibility of working mostly from home, able to manage her administrative responsibilities with only occasional trips to the office. Although she was technically the office manager, her duties didn’t require her to be at the site every day, as the men generally came and went unfettered by her supervision.
LSI headquarters was mostly a big construction yard sitting on thirty acres.
It was large enough to store all the equipment needed for any construction project, with several large steel buildings to handle servicing and repairs. LSI could fabricate just about anything, and because Ryan didn’t believe in throwing anything away, most of the property looked like a gigantic junkyard.
In the twenty-three years the Marshalls had been in business, LSI had completed an impressive portfolio of construction projects, ranging from major dams and bridges, to complex salvage operations. LSI had been dispatched to both the Oklahoma City bombing and the World Trade Center tragedy, in the aftermath of these monstrous events. Sarah was especially proud that the Office of Emergency Services routinely dispatched LSI to major earthquake disasters, working closely with urban search-and-rescue personnel to remove fallen debris from trapped victims. LSI had even received special commendation from OES during the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake that nearly leveled San Francisco.
Those were indeed bittersweet days: She and Ryan were happily married, their flourishing business was gaining renown, and their spirituality sustained them through the grief of losing their son Jacob to muscular dystrophy. Looking back at that time in her life, Sarah often wondered whether she could ever again be that content.
The office phone interrupted her melancholy mood. “LSI, this is Sarah,” she answered, more cheerfully than she felt.
“Sarah Marshall, this is Detective Raymond Westbrook from the Bernalillo County Sheriff’s Office. I’m sorry to bother you, but we have a developing situation,” he said authoritatively.
“Oh, my God…has something happened? Has there been an accident?” Sarah asked, afraid that it might involve her parents or one of the LSI workmen.
“No, no nothing like that, Mrs. Marshall. But your husband is missing, and I’m hoping you can provide information on his whereabouts. Have you heard from him today?”
“No, I haven’t heard from Ryan in over a week. My ex — husband is presently running a job near Taos,” she replied, baffled why Ryan would be missing. Damn him, she thought, but then quickly felt bad, hoping nothing really dreadful had happened.
“Yes ma’am, I’m aware of his job location. I was sent to Taos this morning to bring him in for questioning. Unfortunately, he resisted arrest, which has made his problems much worse,” Detective Westbrook stated, still exasperated from his first contact with Ryan Marshall. He knew his colleagues would have a field day when word spread about how he was manhandled by LSI’s workmen.
“He resisted arrest?” Sarah asked forcefully. “What’s he wanted for?”
“I can explain everything, Mrs. Marshall, but I’ll need to pay you a visit. Would it be convenient to visit you later this afternoon? I need your input on a case we’re investigating in California that involves Ryan’s cousin, Dr. Jarrod Conrad. Do you know him?”
“Oh, good Lord. What have those two idiots done now?” she groaned, the disgust in her voice reverberating through the phone. “Yes, I know all about Jarrod, more than anyone ever should. The two of them together are infantile. They have an insane rivalry that never ends. What would you like me to do, Detective?”
“Well, believe me…I may have a sense of the troubles between them, Mrs. Marshall. I’ll need to take your statement. How late will you be at the office?”
“I’m not in the office today, Detective. I’m working at home. You’re welcome to visit me in Placitas, if that’s more convenient. I’m at 65 Pinon Lane.”
“Yes, ma’am, that will be perfect. I know where that is. I apologize again for the interruption. See you later today, ma’am. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Detective.”
Sarah switched off the cordless phone and frowned. Ryan or the foreman usually called about any complications or personnel problems that arose on the job. She was also frosted that Ryan and Jarrod had once again intruded in her life. She checked her voicemail, entered the pass code, and found that she had two messages.
She listened to the first message recorded nearly an hour before and remembered having briefly gone outside, just missing the call. “Mrs. Marshall, this is Corky Chalmers up at the gorge. Say…could you give me a call on my cell phone as soon as you get this message? We have a problem and Mr. Marshall asked that I call to explain. My cell number is 505-255-6750. Please call me as soon as possible. Thanks.” The fact that Corky at least had tried to reach her made her feel slightly less exasperated.
Sarah then played the second message recorded just moments before. “Mrs. Marshall, this is Corky Chalmers again. It’s pretty important that I speak to you as soon as you get this message. Mr. Marshall gave me specific instructions to call about an incident that occurred here at the job site earlier today. Please call my cell. Thanks, Mrs. Marshall.”
Now Sarah grew more concerned than she was irritated. What could possibly cause Ryan to leave a job site? He would never do this under normal circumstances. Something has really come undone.
Sarah decided to call Corky before trying to reach Ryan. She keyed the number. He answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Mrs. Marshall,” Corky answered, recognizing her number. “I appreciate you calling back.”
“Corky, a Detective Westbrook called here a few minutes ago and is coming over to see me later today…it’s something about Ryan and his cousin. What’s going on?”
“Shoot. I’m so sorry, Mrs. Marshall. Ryan’s gonna kill me. He wanted me to call before Detective Westbrook contacted you. What did you tell him?”
“Well, I didn’t tell him anything, Corky, because I don’t know anything. Why don’t you tell me what’s happened and let me figure out what I will and won’t tell the detective?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
