Authors: John R. Kess
“Did you get
your report written in time?”
“Yup, the
director even thanked me for it.”
“How nice of
him.”
“I’m just glad
we found her.”
West handed
Beckholm a file. “I’m tracking down more information on our ex–Revolution
Records VP of finance.”
“Oh, yeah, the
guy who skipped the country.”
“Victor Fines
was picked up by customs in Italy a few hours ago. It also turns out he
purchased some property with a house on it in Montana not far from where you
just were. We contacted authorities there, and they got a search warrant. Guess
what they found inside the house?”
“What?”
West clicked his
mouse a few times and turned his computer monitor toward Beckholm. The picture
on his screen showed a heavy door open to a small room, empty except for a
single bed, a sink, and a toilet. “The door locked from the outside. I’m sure
it was where they were going to stash Elly.”
“Wow.”
“That’s not all.
They found the videotape of when Belgrade’s crew kidnapped Elly and shot her
bodyguard.”
“This Fines guy
is screwed.”
West nodded.
“What about the missing guy? Is he just as screwed, or is this a clean
self-defense case?”
Beckholm rubbed
his eyes. “If you listen to Elly, he killed those people because they were
trying to take her. But the local DA views it as a huge killing spree. He’ll go
after him as a vigilante at best, a domestic terrorist if he can pull it off. Personally,
I hope he’s never found. No offense to you.”
“None taken.”
* * *
Schwartz stared
at the spreadsheet full of data from the Wittenbel case. Each of the eight dead
men was listed in bold print in a separate column across the top. Schwartz had
filled the rows below with the names of anyone associated with the dead,
including relatives, friends, and coworkers. Taking a gulp of coffee, Schwartz
added columns for each type of weapon used in the killings, pulling them from
the list of Montana firearm registrations. He had a new appreciation for how
many gun owners lived in Montana. He added columns for anyone employed at
Revolution Records or Myers Aviation, employees at the small airport in Montana, as well as anyone who’d previously filed a flight plan on the floatplane found in
the lake. Before running his search, Schwartz added one more column for anyone
in the United States who had ever had a private or commercial pilot’s license.
What would have
been an overwhelming amount of data for someone else was nothing to Schwartz.
He quickly wrote a program that searched every column to find the names that
showed up in multiple categories. In a flash, Schwartz saw the top twenty
common names. Next to each name was the number of hits and in which columns it
could be found. The name at the top was common to four lists: Jason Tessier.
“So, who the
hell is Jason Tessier?” he asked out loud.
Schwartz scrolled
over and saw Jason’s name was common to the Montana firearm registration lists
for the 12-gauge shotgun and .338-caliber rifle. Jason had once been a licensed
pilot, and he was listed under the floatplane column as having filed flight
plans for it. Schwartz typed the name into another general FBI search engine
and saw Jason Tessier was a Marine from Montana, where this whole mess had
taken place. The owner of the floatplane was Jason’s sister. With another click,
Schwartz pulled up Jason’s military record, which showed his status as a Force
Recon Marine.
“Oh, my God. No
wonder they’re all dead,” he said to himself as he read through Jason’s military
training record and combat commendations. “They didn’t stand a chance.”
Schwartz hit the
print button and grabbed the report on his way to West’s office. West waved
Schwartz in and introduced the tired-looking man sitting across from him. “This
is Agent Aaron Beckholm. He’s the field agent on the Wittenbel case.”
“Nice to meet
you,” Schwartz said with a handshake. “I have some info for both of you.”
Schwartz handed West the printout. “I got him. Corporal Jason Tessier, age
twenty-three. His sister is the owner of the floatplane.”
Beckholm said. “He’s
Sarah Miller’s brother?”
“That’s correct.
He is her younger brother.” Schwartz said.
“The one who is supposed
to be on deployment in Afghanistan?”
“Yes, but his
leave papers say he left Afghanistan twelve days ago. He landed in Missoula a week ago, on Saturday morning, the day before this all began.”
“So his sister
didn’t know her brother was home from Afghanistan?”
“It appears that
way,” Schwartz said.
“What else do
you know about him?” West asked.
“He got his
private pilot’s license when he was sixteen. His home address is within ten
miles of the airport, and he owns a .338-caliber rifle. He’s a Force Recon
Marine. This guy was trained in just about every form of combat and special ops
the Marines offer. I’m certain he’s your man.”
“Nice work,”
Beckholm said.
West thanked Schwartz
and then dismissed him.
Beckholm took a
piece of candy from the dish on West’s desk and popped it in his mouth. “I’m
going to hate myself for saying this. Call the DA’s office and tell them.”
“Only if you
promise to go home and get some sleep.”
* * *
DA Jack Coleman
skimmed the fax West had sent. “Jason Tessier, I’ve got you now.”
Coleman picked
up the phone and dialed a friend on the police force who owed him a favor. With
the officer’s help and the information West had sent, getting an arrest warrant
for Jason Tessier was going to be easy.
A flurry of flashes
and whirs greeted Elly as she stepped out onto the hospital lawn dressed in
street clothes. Her mom, dad, Nick, and two sheriff’s deputies flanked her as
she headed for the clump of microphones. TV cameras rolled as questions were shouted
over the buzz of the crowd, but Elly ignored them as she confidently stepped up
to the microphones. Cameras and microphones were nothing new to Elly, and she
knew how important what she was about to say would be to Jay.
The district attorney
had been interviewed a few hours earlier and had fired the first shot by
applauding the judge’s decision to issue the warrant for Jason Tessier and stating
charges would come very soon. Now it was Elly’s turn to return fire.
“I’d like to
thank everyone who has helped me through this ordeal. The outpouring of support
has been overwhelming. I’d like to thank the hospital staff, local and federal
law enforcement, my family, and all of my fans for your support. I am truly
blessed.
“My thoughts and
prayers go out to the families and loved ones of the two teenagers who were
killed by the same men who were pursuing me. I can’t imagine the pain you’re
going through.
“I’d like to thank
two men who saved my life. The first is my bodyguard, Kevin McKnight, who
sacrificed his life to save mine. You are forever my friend and hero. My
thoughts and prayers are with your family as well.
“The second is a
Marine named Jason Tessier. His selfless acts kept me alive as we were hunted
by armed men who wanted to kidnap me. He protected me for five days, and, while
doing so, he was forced to take the lives of some of those men. He put my
safety first at all times, and for that I’m truly grateful. I am absolutely
furious that District Attorney Jack Coleman has indicated he will press charges.
I will not sit back while the man who saved my life is charged. He killed those
men to save me and himself. That is not a crime. That is all I have to say at
this time. Thank you.” Elly turned and walked away.
Reporters
shouted their questions, “How did Kevin McKnight die? When will System Override
go back on tour? Where is Jason Tessier?”
Elly ignored them
all and got into a van. As it sped off, the reporters followed. Elly’s new temporary
bodyguard was at the wheel, and he turned off the highway onto a gravel road
that brought them to a heavily wooded area. They pulled to the side of the road
where two ATVs were waiting for them. Elly’s dad took the driver’s seat of the
van as the bodyguard and Elly jumped on one ATV and Nick took the other. Several
vehicles that had been following them came to a stop. They snapped pictures as
the ATVs sped off down a trail.
Elly wondered if
she was doing the right thing. She knew if Jay had to face the charges listed
on the warrant, public outcry would be their best weapon to get the charges
dropped, but she wondered if it would be enough.
She knew it was
time to turn her attention to finding Jay. Nick had suggested they find someone
who knew Jay well, someone who might know where he would go. Jay had told Elly that
only one person knew he was home, and she knew Jay’s sister Sarah wasn’t the
one. Several yearbook pictures showed Jay standing next to a Chris Pender. She
recalled the Pender Brothers’ Helicopter Logging Service T-shirt Jay had given her
to wear. She wondered if Chris was the one who knew Jay had come home a week
ago.
After ten
minutes of riding, they came upon another road, where a car was waiting.
* * *
Chris Pender had
been awaiting Jay’s phone call to pick him up at the airport. Flipping through
the channels, he stumbled onto the live CNN broadcast and heard his friend’s
name. The broadcast turned to live footage of Elly Wittenbel standing outside
the local hospital, where she began to address the cameras.
He listened to
her speech, and his mouth still hung open even as the cameras showed Elly’s van
driving away. He sat in shock as it slowly sunk in: Jay was the one who had
helped Elly Wittenbel avoid being kidnapped.
“Holy crap!”
Pender said aloud.
Yesterday, he’d
found out from his uncles that Elly Wittenbel had been found in the area, but
what he’d just heard blew his mind.
He listened to a
review of past few days’ events, which included finding a floatplane and numerous
dead bodies in the forest. Pender also learned that a warrant had been issued
for Jay’s arrest. That meant they didn’t know where Jay was.
“Then where is
he?” Pender said to himself.
CNN switched to
a reporter standing outside the local courthouse. She described the warrant and
then brought in a legal expert to discuss it. The studio newscaster finished
the report by reciting Jay’s military record, mentioning that he was a private
pilot whose family owned a floatplane.
Pender paced
around the house wondering what to do. He thought of calling Sarah, but he didn’t
know what he’d say. He wondered if she even knew. The calendar on the fridge
made him pause, as he thought back to dropping off Jay at the airport on Sunday
morning. He remembered the account he’d just heard on the television and
realized Jay had arrived at the airport about an hour before the kidnapping
attempt.
A knock at the
door stopped him. He glanced out the kitchen window and saw a reporter and a
camera waiting for him at the front door. Pender retreated to his room, where
he closed all the blinds. When the reporter finally left, he closed up the
entire house.
Pender decided
he didn’t want to stick around. He packed a bag and drove off, wondering how
long it would take for this to blow over. If Jay didn’t turn up soon, it could
be awhile.
* * *
Elly, Nick, and
her new bodyguard turned off the highway onto a gravel road that wound through the
forest and then continued to a flat, wide-open area with several large
buildings. The sign on the front of the corrugated metal building said Pender
Brothers’ Helicopter Logging Service. Three helicopters were parked in a large
clearing behind a nearby hangar. A man in coveralls had his head buried into
the side of one of the helicopters as he worked on its engine.
Elly and Nick
walked past the open hangar door and saw no one inside, so they approached the
man in coveralls.
“Excuse me,”
Elly said. “I’m looking for Chris Pender.”
“He’s not here,”
the man said without turning around from his work.
“Do you know how
I can find him?”
The man said
nothing as he continued to work on the helicopter.
Elly exchanged a
nervous look with Nick and then asked, “Sir, do you know how I can get a hold
of him?”
“Hey, listen,”
the man said, sounding annoyed. He finally turned. “I’m really busy and …” The
man froze as he stared at Elly.
“Please,” Elly
said. “I need to speak with him.”
“You’re that
girl that was almost kidnapped. The one Jay helped, aren’t you?”
Elly nodded. She
noticed how the man said Jay, not Jason. “Do you know Jay?”
The man nodded.
“Since he was young. My name is Glen.”
Elly was relieved
to have found someone who knew Jay. “I need Chris’s help to find him.”
The man wiped
the oil off his hands and reached into his pocket. “Just a second.” He pulled
out a cell phone. “Let me try and get him.” It only took a few rings. “Chris,
I’m at the hangar. There’s a young lady here who would like to speak to you.
Hang on.” He handed the phone to Elly.
“Hello, is this
Chris Pender?” Elly asked.
“Yeah. Who is
this?”
“My name is Elly
Wittenbel. I need to speak to you about your friend Jay.”
“I’ll be there
in five minutes,” Pender replied.
SUNDAY
Fredrick Pierce Adolphson
III stepped from the Learjet onto the very same tarmac where his client had foiled
a kidnapping one week earlier. As a senior partner at Kirsch, Lauer, and
Adolphson, the lawyer resembled a Fortune 500 CEO in his black pin-striped
suit, custom made for him by a designer in Monte Carlo, and the silk tie given
to him last year by the prime minister of Taiwan.