Crown's Law (52 page)

“Sure, why not? Scotch and water if you have
it.”

When their drinks were ready, Chandra sat on
the couch and let her short skirt ride up and show a lot of thigh
when she crossed her legs.

“Come sit, Sam,” she cooed.

“I’ll sit over here, Chandra,” replied Sam,
pointing at the chair on the other side of the coffee table. Sam
had on a colorful Hawaiian shirt and a tan, light-weight suit.
Before he sat, he reached in the left pocket of his suit coat and
brought out a handful of quarters. He deposited them on the coffee
table with a clatter. Chandra frowned. “What’s this, Sam?”

“Your thirty pieces of silver, Chandra. For
selling out your country,” replied Sam calmly.

Chandra stiffened. “What are you talking
about?”

“You know damn well what I’m talking
about!
Dynology
was—among
other crimes—selling U.S. military secrets to the Chinese. You were
the boss,” he replied gruffly.

“
You’re crazy, Crown! You have no
proof of anything like that!” she snapped as she jumped to her
feet.

“
Sit, Chandra!” he growled as he drew
his gun from his shoulder holster.

She sat. He sat and placed the Smith .40 on
the coffee table. He wished that she would make a grab for it so he
could snap her neck!

“Proof? You mean like evidence for the
courtroom? You’re right. We’re not talking ‘courtroom’ here,
Chandra. You see, you broke Crown’s Law Number One: Thou shalt not
ever fuck with Rebecca Crown! I am the judge, jury, and executioner
of that law. You made two attempts on my life—one when Becky was
with me on the boat—and one when I was in Colorado. That was bad
enough, but then you had your asshole goons
put their hands
on Becky and kidnap her!” he
growled. “And threaten to kill her—
and
worse
! They paid the price. Now it’s your
turn.”

“Sam . . .”

“Shut up! Your big mistake was siccing those
thugs on me in Colorado. You were the only person who knew I was
leaving town. You had me followed. And when that picture of Becky
and Agent Trout made the papers, you came nosing around like a
hound dog—trying to find out what I knew. I don’t know why I didn’t
put it all together earlier.”

“That’s not evidence! That’s pure
speculation!” exclaimed Chandra.

“I told you, I don’t need evidence. I just
need the truth, and I have that. Where are you running to? You knew
the jig was up when all of your key people were killed. That’s
convenient. No one to testify against you; but also no one will
miss you when you disappear. We’re going to take a little trip to
the desert, Chandra. Your body will never be found in the place I
have in mind.”

Chandra was frightened now. She knew all
about Sam’s violent streak. She’d been reporting on him for
years.

“Sam! You can’t do this! You’ll never get
away with it!”

“Sure I will. I was a homicide cop, remember?
I know all the tricks. And with you leaving on vacation, no one
will be looking for you for quite awhile. We’ll take your suitcases
with us. I’ll make those disappear, too.”

“Sam! Don’t! I have a lot of money! I’ll pay
you a fortune! Ten million dollars!”

“Is that all your life is worth? You must
have more than that stashed away with all your treason.”

“I’ll give you fifty million!”

“Why did you do it, Chandra?”

“Why do you think?” she snapped. “They kept
their foot on me! I was never going to go anywhere! All because one
of their slave owners couldn’t keep his hands off the slaves! I
vowed I would get reparation, and I got it! Now I can go to a place
where black is beautiful and live like a queen!”

“No you can’t. You’re bones will bleach white
in the desert.”

“Sam! A hundred million!” she begged.

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Yes, yes! Yes it is!”

“And that’s why you tried to kill me? And
kidnapped Becky and Agent Trout?”

“Yes. You were getting too close. You were
ruining everything.”

Sam was silent for a beat, then said, “How do
I get that much money?”

“I’ll give you the transfer codes. You can
transfer the money to an account of your choice,” she pleaded, now
thinking she had a chance.

Sam was sickened. He really wanted to punish
this woman in the worst way. The image of what she had done to
Becky and Bo was still sharp in his mind. But he needed to find the
money, her ill-gotten gains. He had to lie—let her believe she
could buy him off.

“Write them down, all of them,” he said at
last.

She grabbed a pad of paper from the kitchen
counter and began writing furiously, sweat running down her
spine.

“Good memory. You remember all of them?” he
asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Yes. I didn’t want them written down
anywhere. There you are.”

Sam picked up the paper and said, “Just to
make sure this isn’t just random crap, say each one to me and I’ll
check it against what you wrote.”

She did so and the numbers matched.

“This could still be crap. Make a transfer
for me.”

He retrieved his wallet and took out a white
card with some numbers on it.

“Transfer one of those accounts to this one,”
he ordered. Chandra got on her cell phone and ten minutes later she
said, “There! Six million in your account, Sam! Can I go now?”

“I think you’re holding some back, Chandra.
You did that too quickly. I think we’ll take that drive now.”

“No, Sam! You can’t leave me with nothing!”
she moaned.

“Your choice. I’d rather take the ride. Cough
it up or . . .”

“OK, OK. Here’s the last account,” she said
as she wrote it down.

The door bell chimed. Chandra froze as she
stared at the door.

“Answer the door, Chandra,” Sam said.

Chandra glanced at the gun on the coffee
table, but Sam made no move to pick it up and hide it. She got up
and opened the door and saw Special Agents Trout and Fenster of the
FBI.

Bo said, “It all came through loud and clear,
Sam.”

Chandra snapped a look at Sam. “You bastard!
You’re wired?”

Sam picked up the quarter-sized bug from
among the coins on the table.

“No, but your table is.”

Carl stepped forward with a pair of
handcuffs.

“You have the right to remain silent . .
.”

Sunday, July 15, 2001

Capistrano Beach, CA

Bo and Sam were sipping drinks—she her usual
white wine, Sam a Cutty and water—on the deck of the beach house,
watching the sun ease down on Catalina.

Sam said, “I guess your boss finally got what
he wanted. Chandra sang like a canary in an attempt to escape the
death penalty. She gave up her Hong Kong connection.”

“Yes. The CIA will follow up—try to find out
how much damage was done. Maybe take some people out—to show our
government’s displeasure. At least, we’re out of it.”

“I guess this is the last day of your
vacation. What’s up for you next?” asked Sam wistfully, missing her
already. He wanted to offer her a deal she couldn’t refuse, but
didn’t know how. Bo solved his problem.

She looked at Sam and said, “I’ve made a
decision, Sam.”

“Oh?” he murmured, eyebrow arched.

“Yes. Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m
leaving the FBI.”

“Hmm,” he said as he watched her light a
cigarette. “That’s it? That’s a biggie.”

“You’re not going to tell me it’s a mistake?”
she asked as she exhaled smoke towards the sea.

“You said I couldn’t argue with you,” he
smiled.

“You’ve never let that stop you before!”

After a beat, “Why? What will you do?”

“I’m going to move here. Be close to you and
Becky. If you don’t like it, tough!” she exclaimed. “I can’t stand
being so far away!”

“Well, I . . .”

She interrupted him, ran her words together
without punctuation. “I’ve made up my mind and you’re wondering
what I’ll do and I’ve thought about that and there are several
options but the good thing is I’ll be here for Becky and you when
you need me and I know you have all these girlfriends but I’ll
fight for you because I love you and I love Becky and . . .”

“Whoa, woman!” Sam exclaimed as he put his
hand over her mouth to shut her up. “Take a breath!”

He leaned over and kissed her.

“You think I’m silly, don’t you?” she gasped
after she caught her breath. “And pushy?”

“Yes, to both. With your success on this
case, you’ll probably get the SAC job in New Mexico that you’ve
wanted. But you know that. Your decision makes what I’ve been
wanting to say much easier. I never would have asked you to quit
your job, but both Becky and I want you closer to us, that’s for
sure.”

“Continue. Tell me about ‘closer,’” she said.
“Did you miss the part where I said ‘I love you’?”

“No, I caught that. You must mean
‘infatuated’ or something. We’ve only known each other a short
time.”

“Sometimes that’s enough. Actually, I feel as
if I’ve known you for a lifetime. I know you probably don’t feel
the same, but I’ll work on you. For once in my life I know what I
want and I am going to fight for it!” she exclaimed
passionately.

Sam smiled. “Wow! Now can I talk? You make it
hard for me to complete a sentence!”

Bo shrugged. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m an
idiot.”

“What I was going to say before I was so
abruptly interrupted is that it would please me—and definitely
thrill Becky—if we became a . . . sort of a family.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well . . . Becky has been bugging me to
adopt her, and find her a mother, and I can’t adopt her without
being married, and . . .”

“Jeez, Sam! Is that your version of a
proprosal? If it is, I accept! I’m not proud; I’ll take what I can
get! Please tell me I’m right!”

He pulled her into his arms and kissed
her.

“You interrupted me again. Let’s go find
Becky and see if she wants to get married,” said Sam.

Monday, July 16, 2001

Washington D.C.

On Monday, Bo flew to Washington D.C. and
gave her resignation to her boss, giving four weeks notice. Since
she still had two weeks of accrued vacation, that meant her last
day on the job would be Friday the 27th of July. Because she had
been on a task force, she had no caseload to turn over. She began
shutting down her condo in preparation of moving to California.

Also on Monday the 16th, Sam drove to
L.A. and told
Investigations
International
the bad news: He was
leaving them to open his own office in Capistrano Beach. He told
them to close the Mickey Malone office, since he was its main
supporter. They were not unhappy about that. He told them that
Pearl would be going with him, but she would close the office down
and pack all appropriate files and equipment for shipment to L.A.
Files on clients of only local interest, Sam would take to his new
office and perform any follow-up required. The CEO of
Investigations
International
asked Sam if it would be all right
to contract his services from time to time for some of their
superstar clients who usually asked for Sam to head up their
security. Sam agreed. Everyone was happy. Sam bought his
surveillance van and his high-tech equipment from them.

Pearl leased an office complex in
Capistrano Beach on the east side of PCH with a great view of the
ocean. It was only a quarter mile from the Beach Road gate. Their
suite had 3500 square feet which Pearl hired a carpenter to redo so
there were four offices with an ocean view—including her reception
area—a high-tech equipment and storage room, and a client waiting
lounge. Sam’s office was next to Pearl’s seat of power, the next
was Bo’s, and the corner office belonged to
Rebecca’s Folly, Inc
., Becky’s
office.

On July 30th,
Crown
Investigations
was scheduled to be ready for occupancy, but not quite ready
for business. That suited Pearl. She still had a lot of decorating
to do—Sam had given her an exorbitant budget—and she had to handle
all the decorating and furnishing. She used the somber, 1940s
decorations from the Mickey Malone office in her reception area.
She thought it set a private-eye tone to the place.

She also called the property management
company that handled the rentals on Sam’s beach house. No more
renters after September 3rd. Sam was going to have it cleaned, then
let Bo and Becky redecorate and refurnish it—making it their
own.

***

Bo arrived back in town on Saturday,
July 28th, her FBI career a thing of the past—though she was
legally an agent until August 10. Sam picked her up at the airport
and took her to
Sparky’s
. It
was 5:30 P.M. and all the regulars were there. Bo couldn’t believe
how differently she viewed the place and its people from the first
time she had been there. There were several bikers at the pool
tables and Bo went back and hugged Boomer and each one of his
buddies, thanking them for their role in saving her (and Becky)
from the kidnappers. Some of them even blushed—they had never been
hugged by an FBI agent before.

Sam told Sparky that he and Bo were engaged
and she showed Sparky the rock on her finger—Sam had given it to
her at the airport. All the customers gathered around and offered
congratulations and Sparky announced, “Drinks are on the
house!”

Sam also told them that the Mickey Malone
office was closed and he was opening a new one in Capo Beach. He
said Mickey had gone to live in the east.