Crown's Law (42 page)

They chatted amiably all the way to Bo’s
condo in Falls Church.

After Bo got Becky settled into her spare
bedroom, they plopped down on the couch in the living room.

Bo lit a cigarette and said, “Something to
drink? I’m gonna have some wine. I don’t know if I’m supposed to
offer you some or not. I know Sam does sometimes.”

“Don’t get so uptight, Bo! This is your
house, your rules. Sam’s philosophy is that kids my age get in
trouble because they want to try forbidden things—find out why
they’re forbidden. If they’re introduced to the mystery in a
supervised way, the allure goes away,” laughed Becky. “I’ll just
have a soda. Relax!”

Bo got up and poured herself a glass of
Chardonnay and gave Becky a can of Sprite with a glass of ice.

“Thanks, Bo. I’m glad you agreed to pick me
up. Are you and Sam talking on the phone again?” she said with a
wicked grin.

Suddenly it hit Bo! This whole thing was
planned by Becky to force Sam to call her!

“Yes, we are, Beck. You are a little sneak,
aren’t you?”

“Well, both of you were acting like children.
Neither one of you had the guts to call the other. I just forced
the issue,” laughed Becky as she drank out of the can of soda,
ignoring the glass. “Sam was too mopey. I could hardly stand
him.”

“You’re still reading those psychology books,
aren’t you? He was mopey?”

“Sure. You know he likes you—misses you. I
know I do. I wish we didn’t live so far apart!”

“Thanks, Becky. I like you, too. And miss
you! I’m sure glad you let me get involved in this, regardless of
your sneaky reasons. We have the entire weekend to kick back and
talk. This is nothing like your beach, but this place has a pool.
We can go splash around. Cool off. Get to know each other even
better!”

***

On Sunday the 24th, Bo drove Becky around
Washington for a couple of hours, showing her the sights. After a
nice lunch, they headed back to Bo’s condo and hit the pool. It was
hot and humid and the water felt refreshing. The two bonded further
as Becky led the conversation around to mother-daughter type
subjects—things she couldn’t discuss with Sam. Bo did her best to
answer her questions and soothe her insecurities.

***

On Monday, at the conference, Bo never left
Becky’s side. Bo showed her FBI ID and got meeting credentials to
hang around her neck. The reporters found out that she was an FBI
agent, and the headlines over the articles covering the event in
the evening editions all made note of the fact that Dr. Rebecca
Crown, renowned child genius, was being protected by the FBI. No
one knew why.

***

The Associated Press version of the story hit
the morning edition of the L.A. Times on Tuesday. Bobby D’Orr
spotted it only because of the picture that accompanied the story:
It was a picture of that girl—Rebecca Rogers—and the woman who was
with Sam Crown on the ill-fated boat trip.

“What the hell is going on here?” he muttered
to himself. “That woman is a 16-year-old kid? With a PhD! Why would
she be taking that damned test? And her name is Crown, not Rogers!
FBI protection! This confirms it! She did plant those bugs for the
FBI! I’d better call the boss! We’re in trouble!”

***

Becky got back to Orange County on Wednesday
the 27th bubbling with enthusiasm. She had gained more support from
the academic world. Her detractors were diminishing in numbers.
They had no good arguments that refuted her math. And she couldn’t
stop talking about Bo, either.

***

On Thursday, June 28th, Sam was in
the
Investigations
International
L.A. office for a series of
meetings. At 3:00 P.M. he got a call from Bo on his cell phone. She
was especially elated.

“Sam! Talk to me! I want to hear your voice!”
she bubbled.

After discussing her time with Becky, and how
much she had enjoyed it, Bo finally said, “I’ve got some good news
and some bad news. I have a long-standing request for vacation
during the 4th of July week. The good news is that my boss didn’t
cancel it—not completely at least. The status of the . . . case is
such that he can spare me for a few days. The bad news is—if I take
this vacation—I’ll have to go spend some time with my parents.
There’s always a big 4th of July celebration in Durango and I’ve
always been there with the family. It’s like a ritual. However, I’d
rather spend the time with you!”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Bo, but you
shouldn’t disappoint your family,” replied Sam. “Being selfish, I’d
rather you spend the time with me, though.”

“Well . . . I thought that maybe you could
come to Durango and meet me. Then—also being selfish—I could have
it both ways!” she blurted. “You could meet my parents—I’ve met
yours, after all. Bring Becky . . . if she’d like to come. Lots of
things to do there for her.”

“Becky’s leaving town with my parents on
Sunday. They’re going to Spain to see the running of the bulls, and
other such touristy stuff. It’s been planned for quite awhile. A
present for her for getting her advanced degrees,” replied Sam.

“Well, some other time for her then. She
likes spending time with them. How about you? I want you there!”
she begged.

“Meeting the parents, eh? Are you setting me
up for a shotgun wedding, or what?” he laughed.

“No! I’m not that devious! That’s more your
style. And maybe Becky’s!” she chuckled. “Even though we hardly
know each other, I would appreciate it if you would pretend to be
my boyfriend—so I could show you off. Just while we’re there. No
commitment required. My parents haven’t seen me with one since high
school! I think they believe I’m a closet lesbian!”

“Maybe you are,” chortled Sam with a
grin.

“Asshole! How could you, of all people, think
that?” she giggled. “Of course, I haven’t told you all of my sexual
history. I have been with a woman before and maybe it was quite an
enjoyable experience.”

“Interesting. Maybe we can talk about
arranging a threesome,” he chuckled.

“You are a wicked and depraved man, Sam
Crown!” she replied with a hearty laugh. “Maybe that’s what I like
about you.”

“Well, tell me the juicy details of this
encounter,” pushed Sam.

“Never! Strike that! I’ll tell you in
Durango. You don’t seem to be jumping with joy at the chance to be
with me, so I’ll have to dangle some bait. Are you coming or
not?”

“Well, let me check my calendar,” he
replied.

“You don’t have a calendar, Sam Crown! You
make life up as you go along!” she laughed.

“OK, I’ll be there. Give me the dates again,”
he said. “By the way, Bo, I’ve missed you. Can’t wait to see
you!”

That made her day!

***

The next day, Friday, Chandra Claudet
called Sam and asked him to meet her at
Sonny’s
at 5 o’clock for a drink. Sam agreed. He
was getting very horny. He hadn’t had sex since Bo left. There was
no particular reason—he just hadn’t called any of his regulars for
a date. Hearing Chandra’s voice reminded him that he needed a
woman. Chandra would be perfect!

Sam grabbed an outside umbrella table
at
Sonny’s
and ordered a
bottle of red, poured a glass, and settled in to wait for Chandra.
He was a few minutes early. He was looking forward to seeing her
and her sexy body. She showed up wearing a tank top and
short-shorts. He felt his loins warm. He loved summer! All the
women in tank tops and bikinis!

They exchanged pleasantries while he poured
her a glass of wine. They never showed real intimacy in public, but
he couldn’t keep his eyes off her deep cleavage.

“So why did you call this meeting, Chandra?”
asked Sam.

“Couldn’t it be that I miss your brand of
sex?” she laughed with a wink.

“Flattery will get you everywhere! But you’re
always sniffing at a story. Come clean,” he smiled in response.

“Well, I saw this AP release a couple
of days ago about Rebecca
Crown
! What’s happening? And she’s being guarded
by an FBI agent! I smell a story that I missed somehow.”

“Not really. Becky wanted to be an official
‘Crown,’ so I let her change her name. The FBI agent’s a friend of
hers—nothing official. Nothing sinister,” said Sam as he sipped his
wine, looking at her over the rim of the glass. “I thought you were
more of a ‘breaking news’ sort of journalist. Unfortunately,
Becky’s accomplishments are pretty dull to the man on the street,
as astounding as they are.”

Then an idea hit Sam. A nosy reporter
might know something about
Dynology
. From a different angle
perhaps.

“What do you know about
Dynology
,
Inc
. in Irvine, Chandra?” he asked out of the
blue.

She looked at him a beat, then said, “Never
heard of them. Why?”

“Just wondering. You have a nose for news.
Something may break there soon. You’ve been good to me through the
years, so, if I can, I’ll give you a heads up. Maybe you can get a
scoop,” he said.

“You peak my interest,” she said, leaning
forward. “What do you know?”

“I can’t tell you anything yet. I haven’t
even told the FBI, but I think I will soon. Becky and I have
vacation time scheduled; maybe after that,” he mused.

“Well, you know I’ll take good care of you if
you let me in on it. Where are you going?” she asked.

“You know I don’t share personal stuff with
the press, not even you,” he laughed. “I’m flying out Tuesday, will
be back the following week. If anything breaks, I’ll give you a
call. If I can. The FBI may clap me in irons!”

“Must be hot stuff!” she laughed.

“Enough of that! Want to split a pizza?”

“Sure. Why don’t you freshen my wine?”

At 6:00, their bottle of wine gone, Chandra
leaned forward again and whispered, “Now, how about you dip your
wick in some authentic, 7/8 French poontang?”

He got hard quickly.

“My parents are home, so we can’t go to the
beach house,” he remarked.

“How about the boat?” she leered.

As soon as she said that, he went limp! He
conjured up visions of him and Bo frolicking in the master
stateroom’s bed.

Shit! What’s wrong with me? I’m too young to
need Viagra! What have you done to me, Rainbow Trout?

He looked at his watch.

“Oops! I forgot that I promised Becky that
I’d go shopping with her for her vacation stuff. I’ll have to take
a rain check, as much as I want to immerse myself in your luscious
body!” he lied.

“You disappoint me, Sam! I’m all horny now! I
guess I’ll have to let my cameraman screw me, and you know how much
that annoys me! Well, thanks for the dinner. See you after your
vacation.”

“Sure, see you then,” he said as she strutted
out of the restaurant.

Shit!
he
thought.
This is serious! Maybe I should
get an appointment with Dr. Sue!

Tuesday, July 3, 2001

John Wayne Airport, Orange County, CA

Sam boarded a plane to Denver at 8:00 A.M. on
Tuesday the 3rd of July. His parents and Becky had left for Spain
on the previous Sunday. He didn’t tell them that he was going to be
with Bo, because he knew that Becky would want to go. She was
already upset about not being home for his 49th birthday on July
5th.

“Forty-nine is no biggie, Beck. We’ll do a
family thing for the big five-oh. OK?” he had told her. She finally
wished him an early “Happy Birthday” and left with the Crowns.

In Denver, Sam boarded a United Express plane
for Durango. He had called Bo’s satellite phone when he arrived in
Denver and she told him that she had arrived the night before. When
he had boarded the small Embraer Brasilia, Sam had noticed a pretty
blonde in tight jeans and an even tighter yellow tank top boarding
the same flight. She had been on his flight from Orange County. He
sat several seats behind her. He didn’t dare strike up a
conversation with a pretty girl at this juncture. Bo wasn’t far
away.

***

Earlier at the John Wayne Orange County
Airport, the woman in the yellow tank top had made a call on her
secure satellite phone.

“Boss? Candy here. I picked up that guy Crown
at the Orange County airport. The kid’s not with him though. What
do you want me to do?” Candace Brisk asked.

“Shit! I thought they would be together! All
right, maybe they’re meeting somewhere. Stick to him like glue, but
don’t let him make you. Where’s he going?”

“Looks like Denver. I gotta hurry to make
that plane. I’ll call you!”

***

Bo was waiting at Durango-La Plata County
Airport when Sam’s flight landed. She hugged and kissed him with
fervor. She was wearing jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a tight red
tank top. The brown cowboy hat perched on her head was pushed back
with the kiss.

They retrieved Sam’s bag and she led him to a
Jeep Cherokee and motioned him to the passenger’s seat.

“You’re on my turf now, so I’ll do the
driving,” she laughed, eyes glistening with excitement. “This is no
Camaro, but it gets the job done up here.”

“You’re the boss. How far to your place?” he
smiled.

“My dad’s place—
The Durango Wilderness Lodge
—is 12 miles from
here. The lodge is 2 miles south of town, right on the Animas
River. Buckle up! We’re on our way! I’m so glad you came,
Sam!”

As they pulled out of the airport and headed
north on Highway 172, Bo said, “One thing I didn’t tell you on the
phone.”

Sam glanced at her and arched an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“My parents are much like yours in the sense
that they don’t want their daughter—even though I’m 36—shacking up
in plain sight of their friends. So we have separate sleeping
quarters,” she said without looking at him, her eyes on the road.
“But they’re the best rooms in the lodge!”