Authors: Mona Ingram
She stared out at the perfectly manicured lawn and her thoughts went to Jackson. She needed to hear his voice now, deep and seductive, telling her that everything would be all right. She picked up her purse and then remembered. She’d left her phone in Vince’s vehicle, plugged into the recharger. A shiver of apprehension tiptoed down her spine as she thought of Vince with Jackson’s phone number. But then she remembered that he’d entered it as Tiffany. Vince may not like the idea of her associating with Tiffany, but her number wouldn’t raise any suspicions.
She could phone the resort of course, but that might be awkward. Much as she wanted to talk to Jackson, he’d still be there tomorrow. She reached for the phone.
* * *
“Good morning, Amanda. I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.” Lloyd Watson motioned her to a chair.
Amanda sat down. “Thank you for fitting me into your schedule.”
The lawyer looked at the file on his desk. “Is there anything specific you’d like to review today?”
Amanda flushed. “It’s not about Gran’s estate. “I’d like to arrange for a divorce from my husband and I don’t know how to go about it.”
He looked at her steadily for a moment. “This is a surprise. Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”
“Oh yes.” She sat up a bit straighter. “I’ve wanted out of this marriage for some time, but to be perfectly frank, I didn’t know Gran had any money, and my husband was paying her expenses at the hospice house. By the time Gran had to be placed in care, she wasn’t communicating. We never talked about finances.”
The lawyer sighed. “It’s amazing how many older people fail to discuss financial issues with their families, or keep them in the dark about their final wishes.”
Amanda jumped in. “I’m not criticizing her. It’s just the way she was.”
“I understand.” He toyed with his pen. “Please don’t take offence, bit as to this divorce business, are you sure you’re not simply emotional?”
Amanda told him everything that had happened, including Vince’s words the night before. “I’m sure,” she said, meeting his gaze.
She left the lawyer’s office feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She needed to share the good news with someone and decided to turn to the best friend she had in Vancouver...Agnes.
“You come over any time you like, my girl. Do you still have my card?” Agnes’ earthy laugh revived her spirits. “Of course you do, it’s on the card with the phone number. I must be having a seniors’ moment.”
* * *
“Come in, come in.” Agnes gave her a quick once-over. “You look wind-blown.”
“I am. After I left the lawyer’s office I went for a quick walk on Kits Beach.” She smiled at her friend. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy it. Gran’s house is in Kitsilano and I stopped by to make sure everything was okay. Gran and I used to go there a lot when I was a kid.”
“I was sorry to hear about your grandmother.” Agnes gave her a hug, then led her to a sunroom and stopped proudly in the doorway. It was magnificent, with lush plants, potted flowers and a spectacular display of orchids. “Like it?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful.” Agnes guided Amanda to a rattan sofa with big squashy cushions in a flowered pattern.
“I’ve asked Louise to bring us some lemonade,” she said, taking the matching chair. She put her feet up on an ottoman. “Tell me everything.”
Grateful for the opportunity to talk, Amanda relayed what had happened since they last saw each other.
“I must say, this Jackson sounds like a dreamboat.” Agnes tilted her head to one side. “Do you young people still use that expression? Dreamboat?”
“No, but in this case it fits.”
“My first husband was a dreamboat.” Agnes caressed the Zippo with an unconscious gesture. “And he was fabulous in the sack.”
“Agnes!”
Her friend raised both eyebrows. “What? Just because we’re old we can’t have memories?”
“When you put it that way...” Amanda’s words trailed off.
“But I have a feeling you didn’t sleep with him, this Jackson.” The older woman looked at her with eyes that had seen a lot.
“I was tempted.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
Agnes lit another cigarette. “After what that husband of yours said, you must be wishing you’d given him a whirl.”
Amanda thought for a moment. “Not really, no. Call me old fashioned but I would have thought less of myself. If we ever get together we’ll be starting fresh.”
Agnes blew a plume of smoke into the air. “There’s something to be said for that. I have only one question.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“What are you waiting for?”
Amanda smiled. “You’re right. I’ll go back up to Loon Lake tomorrow.” She looked up as Agnes’ maid brought them some fresh iced tea. “May I stay here tonight? I don’t want to be in that house all alone.”
“Of course. We’ll have a couple of games of Scrabble, but be warned; I take no prisoners!”
* * *
Jackson climbed out of the boat, crossed the shoreline and was into the woods by the time his fellow team members had pushed off. They were going to pose as fishermen today and watch Reimer’s cottage. The team had no idea if he’d go to his cottage, but it would be a big break if he was cocky enough to start out from there. At this stage in his law enforcement career Jackson had learned to never be surprised by what people do.
As for himself, he couldn’t risk being spotted by Reimer again, but he couldn’t sit still. Traynor had agreed that he should try one last time to locate the grow-op in advance of Reimer’s arrival. He set out, following a stream through a cut in the hillside. It was tough going and he had to be careful not to make any undue noise.
His cell phone vibrated against his thigh. He unsnapped the pocket in the leg of his camos and took it out. ‘Reimer left Vancouver 0800.’
He forced himself to stay calm. He had four hours, maybe five before the man arrived and made it to this side of the lake. He climbed steadily, trying unsuccessfully not to think about Amanda. In spite of his best intentions, she kept creeping into his thoughts. The more he thought about her, the more convinced he was that she knew nothing of Reimer’s illegal activities. And it wasn’t just because he was in love with her. There! He’d admitted it...he was in love with her. The idea of her with scum like Reimer turned his stomach and he was eager for the moment when she was free. Even if she didn’t choose to be with him, he wanted her to know that he offered a safe harbour where she could ride out the storm that was sure to follow Reimer’s arrest. He ducked under an overhanging ledge, took out his phone and pressed her number. He shouldn’t be doing this, but he wanted to hear her voice, tell her how he felt about her. He waited impatiently, but she didn’t answer. He disconnected and told himself that it was just as well.
His feet slid in loose soil and he looked around, angered at himself that he hadn’t been paying attention. He was at the bottom of a small escarpment. The area was heavily treed, and at first glance he didn’t understand what he was seeing. A pile of scree like a small landslide sat at the bottom of the escarpment and yet there was no sign of a landslide above. His mind turned over the possibilities.
Of course! The grow-op was reported to have some underground bunkers. This was the material that had been dug from the side of the hill. It had been dumped over the edge of the escarpment above and was screened by the dense trees. He was getting close. He looked at the stream again. It appeared normal, but that was understandable. After the water had been diverted to generate power they would re-route it to the original stream. He took the GPS co-ordinates and sent them to Traynor with a message. ‘Getting close’ he said. ‘Stand by for another report.’ If something happened, he wanted his boss to know where he was.
* * *
Vince pulled into the fast lane of the freeway and settled in for the drive. His mistress had been pleased last night when he told her he could stay, but then she’d started nagging him about leaving his wife. He wasn’t sure about that; he’d foolishly neglected to ask Amanda to sign a pre-nup, and he’d noticed something different about her last night. Defiance almost, which surprised him. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
A phone rang, disturbing his thoughts. It wasn’t his ringtone and he frowned, unsure where the sound was coming from. He looked down at the phone charger. Amanda’s phone! He yanked it out of the plug-in and checked the display. Tiffany. Angry, he lowered his window and tossed the phone onto the grass on the median that ran between the split highway. She
knew
he didn’t want her associating with people who worked at the club. When would she learn? He forced himself to calm down and think about the upcoming harvest at the grow-op. According to reports, it was shaping up to be the best crop ever. Maybe he should start looking for some new distributors...
* * *
It wasn’t long until Jackson found the grow-op. He’d crossed the creek and moved laterally several hundred yards before continuing the upward climb. He was being overly cautious, but after all the man hours it had taken to find the site he didn’t want to spook them now.
He approached the intake for the micro hydro from above. No wonder they hadn’t spotted it from the air; the PVC pipe had been sprayed neutral beige to match the forest floor, and the entire length was covered with camouflage netting.
He crouched beside a tree and watched with high powered binoculars, virtually invisible in his camouflage gear. There appeared to be only one person on site and he nodded to himself; this coincided with what they’d been told. Containers with pot plants were everywhere and extended beyond what he could see. The buds were huge; a few more days and they’d be prime. He wondered at Reimer’s decision to come here when they were so close to picking, but that was something else that had been in the report; he liked to inspect the crops just before harvest. Maybe he’d been cheated in the past. Jackson didn’t know, but he was glad the man kept to a predictable routine.
He checked his GPS position, sent a message and settled in to wait.
After a couple of hours Traynor and the team arrived silently and Jackson pointed toward the underground bunkers.
“Jeez” murmured Traynor, studying the layout through his binoculars. “That’s some operation.” He turned to Jackson. “I wonder which way he’ll come?”
Jackson shrugged. “I wish I knew.”
Traynor reached into his jacket, pulled out a phone and frowned. “Reimer just arrived at the cottage. There was one man waiting and they drove a bit farther along the road and went to a stable.” He looked at Jackson. “They’re coming by horse.”
Jackson acknowledged and went back to watching the bunker. A gentle wind drifted down from above bringing some relief from the heat.
After about three quarters of an hour his head came up and he smiled.
“What is it?” Traynor spoke in his ear.
“Jackson pointed to higher ground. Smell that? Reimer’s up there. He smokes cigars that smell exactly like that.”
Traynor grinned. “Let’s do this.”
The takedown was quick and easy; almost anti-climactic after weeks of searching and waiting. The agents stripped off their vests. Neither Reimer nor the other two men had drawn their guns, although they all carried. It was a textbook bust. Now for the paper work.
Jackson looked up from the desk he’d occupied for the past several hours. He was having trouble focusing on the report when what he really wanted to do was pump his fist. Not only had this bust been a tremendous success, but the man behind the operation would be going away for a long time. The man who had treated Amanda with contempt could hurt her no longer. He wanted to shout it out to the other agents but put his head back down and forced himself to concentrate. He was tired, but it felt good.
Finally, his report was complete. “Are you going to hold a press conference?” he asked Traynor.
“Yup. The Force likes to let the public know that their tax money is being spent on something worthwhile.”