already knew that.”
He continued to gaze out over the water. “My dream was to play shortstop for the Yankees, but the talent wasn’t up to the dream. Serving your country wasn’t a bad second option.”
Michelle was a little taken aback by this tacit admission of the man’s employment. “Riding on Air Force One and protecting the Man was one of the greatest honors of my life.” She paused and added, “I knew some guys in Delta who were in Vietnam.” He gave her a penetrating stare. “Like I said, I hear more than most.”
He shrugged. “That was a long time ago.”
“But you never forget.”
“Some do; I never have.” He pointed to Babbage Town. “So how goes it on your side of the river?”
“Slowly.”
“I often wondered why they set up shop down here.”
“You mean across from you?”
“You’ve got a partner here with you?” he said, ignoring her question.
“Yes.”
“Monk Turing’s death was unfortunate, but hardly the basis for a murder investigation.”
“You told my partner it was a suicide.”
“No, I told him there had been four other suicides in and around Camp Peary. And I also told him that the FBI had concluded that Turing killed himself.”
“I’m not sure they still believe that. And then there’s Len Rivest.”
“The local paper said he’d had a lot to drink and was found drowned in his bathtub. Doesn’t sound all that sinister really.”
“Two deaths so close together?”
“People die all the time in all different ways, Michelle.”
He looked, Michelle thought, like a man who knew what he was talking about.
“That almost sounds like a warning,” she said.
“I have no control over how you interpret my words.” He swept his hand toward the other side of the river. “There’s a big federal presence down here and that includes the Navy. People working for their country, doing dangerous things, risking their lives. You should understand that. You risked your life for your country.”
“I do understand it,” Michelle said. “And where exactly is this conversation going?”
“Just keep in mind that this stretch of the York can be very dangerous. Whatever you do, don’t lose sight of that. You have a nice day now.”
Michelle slipped her paddle off the gunwale as Whitfield put the throttle in reverse, turned and slowly puttered off. Michelle maneuvered her kayak so that she could continue to watch him as he headed downriver to the Camp Peary boat dock. The man never once looked back.
When he was out of sight Michelle turned around and paddled slowly away. Ian Whitfield had given her a lot to think about. And a good reason to be afraid.
CHAPTER 68
OVER COFFEE IN THE MANSION’S dining room Michelle filled Sean in on her conversation with Ian Whitfield.
“He strikes me as a guy who doesn’t make empty threats.”
“My skin was tingling the whole time he was talking to me.”
“That makes me even less inclined to go over the fence.”
“Then we need to find some new angles to work,” she said. “I’m just not sure what they are.”
“Let’s go over what we know. Monk went to Germany and he died at Camp Peary. There were German POWs kept at Camp Peary during the war. Len Rivest wanted to talk to me about Babbage Town and now he’s dead. He thought there were spies here. Alicia Chadwick was having a fling with Rivest and is Viggie’s guardian. Champ doesn’t have an alibi for Len’s death but we have no evidence he had anything to do with it. Ian Whitfield warned me and then you off and his wife is a dead end. The morgue got blown up. To mess up the evidence that Rivest was murdered?”
“Wait a minute,” Michelle said. “You suspected that Rivest was murdered because of the absence of towels, bath mat and the plunger.”
“Right. I told Hayes and he asked the ME to check into whether any trace from the plunger was on the body.”
“And?”
Sean said, “And we hadn’t heard back before the ME died.”
“If the morgue got blown up because someone knew you suspected murder, how would they have found out you did suspect something?”
“Well, Hayes could have carelessly let it slip to someone.”
“Or deliberately told someone,” Michelle countered.
“Why would he do that?”
“Just playing devil’s advocate. What do you really know about him?”
“He’s a county sheriff.”
“But we don’t know where his true loyalties lie.”
“You getting paranoid on me?”
“With Babbage Town and Camp Peary right across the river I’d say you’re totally screwed up if you’re not paranoid.”
Sean nodded. “All we can do is keep chipping away. See if Alicia comes up with anything. Run down the German angle. I don’t see another alternative right now.”
“And maybe it still comes down to us going over that fence,” she said.
After Michelle left Sean pulled out a piece of paper with a phone number on it. He punched in the numbers, and after the beep said, “Valerie, it’s Sean Carter. Can I see you?”
As Michelle was walking back to the cottage, she saw something up ahead that made her flat-out sprint.
“What the hell are you doing?” she screamed.
Viggie stopped and stared at her, the wide smile on her face melting away as she let go of the trash bag she was holding and it fell to the ground.
Michelle looked inside her truck. It was spick-and-span clean. She turned to the girl. “How dare you mess with my things? This is my truck. Who gave you permission to go inside my truck and touch my things? Who!”
Viggie fell back a step. “I… uh. You told me you could never get it clean, no matter how hard you tried. I thought you’d be happy.”
Michelle grabbed the trash bag and started pulling things out and tossing them back in the truck. She screamed, “This is not trash. Get the hell away from my truck!”
Viggie turned and ran sobbing back to the house. Michelle didn’t seem to notice. She was busy picking things out of the trash bag and layering her floorboards with them.
“Catch you at a bad time?”
She whirled around to see Horatio staring at her and Michelle inwardly groaned.
“Just a misunderstanding,” she said quickly.
“No, I think your meaning was crystal-clear.”
“Get the hell off my back!”
“So do we just leave Viggie in the house crying her guts out, or what?”
Michelle glanced toward the house; Viggie’s wails could be easily heard. Michelle slumped back against the truck and the tennis shoe and banana peel she was holding slipped to the ground. A tear trickled down her face.
She sat down on the running board of her truck and stared at the grass.
“I’m sorry,” Michelle said in a low voice. “But she was messing with my stuff. She had no right to do that.” Horatio came over to stand by the truck. “Well, in a sense you’re absolutely right. People shouldn’t mess with other
