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Dead Men Tell No Tales
Chapter 11
He opened the door of the clinic. The foul odor assaulted him before he was even through the door. He'd been in war. He knew what a dead body smelled like. Especially if it had been left laying for several hours or days. He pulled the door shut, climbed back into the rental car. Drove back up the road to the deserted ranch house.
Senator Kinsey had never been as angry as he was now. All of his plans were laying in ruins at his feet. The geneticists who had been so eager to 'examine' Casey Jackson and Cassandra Fraiser were nowhere to be found. All of the publicity linked to the disappearance of the two women had frightened them away. His 'investors' were demanding repayment of funds already given to him to pay for the equipment, crates that were scheduled to be delivered later today.
Shit! I have to stop that delivery! If they found the body, they would report it. And there was always the chance that the fool lying there dead could be linked to the kidnapping. There was no fear that he could be linked with him, he had been very careful about that. Hmm...Maybe he wouldn't worry about that dead kidnapper after all.
Kinsey paced the modest living room of the ranch home. If he left, before anyone was aware he'd even been here, he could pretend surprise when the body was found. There was no doubt that the press would discover that the clinic and the house belonged to his brother-in-law. He could use this, he thought, if he was very careful. Make it appear that someone was trying to set him up. He crossed his arms, tapped his finger against his lips. How difficult would it be to link Brighton or Tobin to the kidnapping…or even Shepperd? Dammit, neither woman had been from his district, he couldn't use it as a political attack. There was no connection socially, so the personal attack angle was out of the question.
Right now, getting back to DC was the best thing he could do. He could think about how to handle the situation during the flight. Thank goodness for the airstrip on the back acreage of the ranch! He grabbed his satchel, hurried out to the car. Frowned when the engine refused to turn over. He tried again. And again. Jumped with surprise…and fright…when the passenger door opened, and Harry Maybourne sat down beside him, his gun pointed at the senator.
"Engine problems?" Harry asked calmly. Held up a tiny fuse. "It's amazing that such a tiny thing can prevent an entire vehicle from running properly, isn't it? Running. Just like you're doing."
Kinsey smirked. "The authorities will hail me as a hero for capturing you, a felon convicted of treason against this great nation."
"Don't make speeches. I don't listen to them, and there isn't an admiring public or any fawning reporters nearby," Harry replied. "They'll be more interested in the connection between you and the two women kidnapped in DC day before yesterday."
"There is absolutely nothing to tie me to that," Kinsey replied haughtily.
"Don't be so sure." Harry nodded toward the empty house. "Your hired help left in a hurry, didn't they? Left the victims alone. You never should have taken the Jackson woman. She's on an SG team. You think the amateurs you hired were any match for her?"
"What makes you think I hired anyone?"
"I still have connections, Bob. And those connections keep me informed. I knew when you hired Mickelson that you were up to something. I also knew that you were being cheap. As usual. That bastard is a two-bit hood. For a job this...important, you should have spent the cash on reliable help. Someone who wouldn't have turned tail and ran at the first hint of trouble," Harry responded. "You're going down, Bob."
"I don't think so," Kinsey said. "All you have are suspicions. Theories."
"And a trail of payoffs. And a list of phone numbers. Names. Dates. Addresses. Bank account numbers."
Kinsey turned pale. "You can't prove anything."
"I don't have to," Harry said. "The FBI will do that. If they haven't already. Seems that certain …information…was delivered to every newspaper, television and radio station in DC. Of course, they're waiting to see what happens with the kidnapping case before breaking this story. Corruption. Murder. Kidnapping. Deals with foreign leaders. Oh, yes. It's all there. Well, they have to connect the dots. Which I'm sure the reporters working that story are doing with fevered delight right now. And of course, several reporters were more than happy to share that information with the FBI agents assigned to the Jackson/Fraiser kidnapping case. After all, the emails that contained all of that very…interesting…information appeared within a matter of hours of the women disappearing."
He felt as if he was going to be ill. He had money in his Cayman Island accounts. He could live…comfortably. But he wouldn't be able to afford the…extras…that he'd come to enjoy. "So what is it that you want, Harry?"
"Me? I only want to see justice done."
"Bullshit. You're as dirty as I am. What do you want? A percentage? You've got it."
"No, Bob. I want you to go down." Harry got out of the car, careful to keep his eye on the Senator, and the gun pointed at him. He tossed the fuse onto the seat. "Have a nice flight, Senator."
Before Kinsey had time to react, another white rental car was pulling away, disappearing down the road. With a growl of frustration, he took the fuse, opened the glove box, hoping to find the manual on the car. Found a carefully written note, in Harry's handwriting, on where the fuse belonged, and how to reach the fuse box.
He called the pilot. Told him that he'd be arriving shortly. Told him to set up the bedroom. One last party, he thought. Before he had to…dispose…of the two pilots. Those two men alone could bury him. Well, dead men tell no tales. Jeanie, the flight attendant…well, maybe he'd keep her around. She'd always liked what he could give her. If she wanted to continue to snort, she'd just have to learn how to earn it. If she could fuck him for 'free' cocaine, she could learn to fuck the dealer he bought it from. Hell, he wouldn't mind watching that; seeing her lily white body beneath...or on top of...that dark skinned brute.
Thirty minutes later Kinsey stepped onto the plane. Opened the door to the bedroom. The sofas had been opened into a king sized bed. Jeanie and the pilot and co-pilot were already naked. Several lines of white powder waited on a mirror. Kinsey smiled at them, leaned over and snorted two lines. "Take, my children," he said softly, getting undressed.
Eagerly the two men and the woman snorted up what remained of the cocaine. The pilot lit one of the dozen or so joints that waited in the box. They passed the joint around, lit a second, and a third. Nearly an hour had passed.
"Ready to party, boss?" the pilot asked, one hand stroking his erection, the fingers of the other pushing in and out of Jeanie's hot little snatch.
"Of course I am, Richard," Kinsey replied. He smiled as Jeanie caressed and sucked him until he was completely hard, then covered his cock with K-Y Jelly. Richard smiled. Pushed Jimmy, the co-pilot, onto his back, took the man's erection into his mouth. "That's it Richie. Make him nice and hard."
Jeanie knew that it would be awhile before any of the men were ready for her. She took her toys, inserted one into her dripping pussy, the other she eased into her ass. She knew that Bob loved to watch her fuck herself while he 'played with the boys'.
"Now, boys," Kinsey instructed, breathing hard.
Richard rose up onto his hands and knees. Moaned softly as Kinsey sank into his body. He worked his hand on his own hard flesh as the senator began to move slowly.
Jimmy got on his knees behind the Senator, rimmed him until the man's ass was nice and wet, felt the shivers that his ministrations incurred. "I want to fuck you, daddy," he whispered, playing the 'role' that he knew well.
"Yes," Kinsey groaned. "Fuck your daddy!"
"Oh, god," Jimmy moaned as he pushed his aching cock into the senator's ass. How much better could his life be? He got to fuck a US Senator on a regular basis, along with the senator's boyfriend and girlfriend. All the drugs he wanted. And he got paid on top of it! Talk about the dream job of a lifetime! He'd been asked to do a few things that were illegal. Taking people to remote locations and leaving them. He'd even had to dispose of a body or two. But the perks were well worth the risk, he thought as he panted, driving hard and deep into the body beneath him.
"Jeanie, get over here and suck your brother off," Kinsey ordered, panting from exertion. "Richie, eat that pussy."
The pilot really was her brother, they had been having sex since he had been in college and she had started middle school. The woman slid onto the bed, slipped her head beneath Richard and began to suck him off. Moaned when she felt his mouth on her aching flesh. Robert is always so considerate, she thought giddily. No one does without when they party with Robert Kinsey!
The room was filled with the sounds of grunting and groaning and bodies slapping together. They were so high, so involved with each other and what they were doing, they never noticed the three flashes of light.
Harry stroked off, watching the group. Then took the camera and exited the plane. Kinsey would never dare to show his face in the States again. Because he now had proof that the senator knew the pilot and the co-pilot, in the very Biblical sense. Knowing that the two men would probably be dead soon, this was important proof. And getting Kinsey out of the country, into the wilderness of 'less developed' nations, where murders happened every day and no one cared, was exactly what Harry Maybourne wanted.
A A A A A A
"Coming!" Jack hollered, yanking his robe around his wet body, rubbing a towel over his head. "Give it a rest, for crying out loud," he muttered as the doorbell echoed again.
"Good afternoon, sir. I just need your signature here," a man wearing a Fed-Ex uniform and hat said, smiling.
Jack raised an eyebrow. Signed on the line. Accepted the nine by twelve envelope. He dropped down onto the sofa to open it. Took out three photos. "Holy buckets!"
A single piece of paper flittered to the floor. There was one word written on it: 'Insurance'.
He dropped his head back and began to laugh. Kinsey was as good as gone! There was no doubt that Harry had the originals and the negatives of this. Probably had more. This would certainly put an end to the senator's Bible thumping days, without a doubt! Jack picked up the phone and dialed.
"Hammond."
"Hello, sir. Just thought I'd tell you about an interesting delivery I just received."
"Three very...enlightening...photographs?"
"I take it Harry sent you a set, then."
"Yes, he did, colonel. I think we can safely say we have Senator Kinsey by the balls."
Jack couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, at the very least."
"I have the feeling that the president has received a similar envelope."
"Do I tell Daniel to come home?"
"Not just yet. I won't trust Kinsey until I know he's completely out of the picture."
"All right, sir. See you in the morning."
"Good night, Jack."
He looked at the photos again. Who'd have thought that the upright, uptight, Bible thumping Senator Robert Kinsey was into group sex? He chuckled. Daniel was going to love this!
The doorbell rang again. With a groan of frustration, Jack pulled himself to his feet, blessed his Immortality and the lack of aching knees, and opened the door to find Sam standing there, wearing that tiny little tank top and jeans that looked painted on, pizza box in one hand, six-pack of Heineken in the other. "Holy Hannah!" he muttered.
"See something you like, Colonel?" Sam asked teasingly.
"Hell yeah! You brought beer!" He laughed when her face fell slightly. "Hey, I'll have to use it to cool the fire that top and those jeans have started."
She giggled. "Or, we could just drink the beer, and let the fire rage. Never know where it might take us."
"I have a very good idea where it will take us," Jack replied. "Get in here, Major."
Sam giggled again, accepted the kiss that her CO bestowed upon her. Followed him down the hallway to his bedroom. The pizza could always be warmed up later.
A A A A A A
Cassie sighed. "That was the dumbest movie I've ever watched," she said.
"Hence, the title," Daniel teased.
"But I thought it would be…funny. I mean, most of Jim Carrey's movies are funny," the teenager complained.
"Critics raved about it," Casey giggled.
"The critics are just…dumb…then," Cassie retorted.
"It was a dumb movie," Casey agreed.
"Couldn't get any dumber," Cassie grinned.
"This conversation can't either," Daniel told them.
"Sure it could," Casey argued. "It could get dumber and dumber."
The three of them laughed, rolling on the bed, declaring anything and everything 'dumb'. The ringing of the telephone destroyed the moment of levity. Sent three hearts racing. Daniel picked the phone up after the fourth ring. "Hello?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you sir, but I'm afraid one of the other guests has backed into your vehicle. She insists there isn't any damage, but one of the witnesses, another guest, thought you should take a look for yourself," the desk clerk said apologetically.
He let out the breath he didn't even know he had been holding. "That's okay, I'll be right there."
"What?" Casey demanded as soon as he hung up.
"Somebody backed into the jeep," he replied, shoving his feet into sneakers.
"Oh, good grief!" Casey muttered.
"Did they smash it?" Cassie asked.
"I hope not," Daniel replied. He glanced at the 9mm that lay on the bedside table. Put it into his duffel. Put the .38 beside it, zipped the vinyl bag closed. "Let's go see what the damage is."
Casey dropped her arm around Cassie's shoulders as they followed Daniel to the lobby. Hoped that the jeep wasn't badly damaged. Right now, staying in one place too long wasn't a good idea.
"You're Doctor Jackson?" a leggy brunette, with the largest, most...artificial...chest Casey had ever seen, asked.
His was on guard instantly. He had met women like this before…predatory…cruel. Hell, did she work for Kinsey? He fought down the panic that wrapped around him. He never should have left the gun in the room! "Yes, I am."
Oh, hell no you don't! Casey thought irritably, watching the woman wrap her hand around Daniel's, hold his arm with the other as they shook hands.
"I'm so sorry," she gushed. "I was backing up, and I looked and was certain that I had more room, but I bumped into your Jeep. There isn't any damage, I promise," she said, her voice deep and breathy.
"Let's take a look," Daniel replied. He pulled his arm from the woman's grasp. Glanced at Casey, noted the fire in those beautiful green eyes. He couldn't help but grin knowing that she was jealous over him. That had never happened before in his life…at least that he was aware.
Giving the slender blonde and the brown-haired teenager a quick glance, then immediately dismissing their presence, the woman flounced after the tall, dark blond-headed man.
"Give me a break," Cassie muttered under her breath. "Why doesn't she just have 'slut' tattooed on her forehead and be done with it?"
Casey burst into giggles. Which had Daniel and the woman looking back at them. "Why waste money on the ink? She advertises just fine without it," she whispered.
It was Cassie's turn to giggle.
Daniel inspected the back of the jeep. There was a small scratch on the bumper, nothing that bit of paint couldn't fix. The license plate was slightly bent, but again, the damage wasn't enough to worry about. "I don't see anything to get excited over," he announced.
"Oh, you are such a sweetheart!" the woman declared, putting one hand over her heart, the other on his arm.
"Yeah, well, no harm done," he said uncomfortably.
"Let me take you out for a drink. I’m sure your…sisters…wouldn’t mind."
"Excuse me?" Casey said softly.
"No thanks. My Wife and I are taking my niece home tomorrow. Leaving bright and early," Daniel replied.
The woman looked crestfallen. Shot a glare of pure venom at Casey. Finally noticed the diamonds sparkling on the blonde's left hand. "Sorry to hear that." She stepped closer to Daniel. "I'm in room two-oh-nine if you change your mind," she whispered.
He stepped away from the woman, shook his head. "I won't." He turned to Casey, put his arm around her, pulled her close. Smiled when he felt her arm go around his waist. He glanced around the corridor when they arrived back at the room. "Wait here," he said softly, just before he opened the door to the room he and Casey were staying in. He gave a quick look around, waved them in. He examined their duffels, making certain that nothing had been disturbed or was missing. Checked Cassie's room as well.
"Daniel?"
"She could have been a diversion," Daniel said quietly.
Casey shivered.
"Angel?"
"Nothing," she smiled. "Just thinking about the fact that we have to be so careful right now, and as paranoid as Jack."
He grinned. Never thought that he would ever need all of the training that his best friend had insisted that he have. "Sometimes, his paranoia pays off."
"So now what?" Cassie asked.
"How about ordering a pizza and watching another movie?" Casey suggested. "I feel like bumming around in my sweats."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Daniel agreed.
Pizza was ordered, a movie was decided on, and the three stretched out on the bed, wearing sweats and tee shirts. Casey snuggled close to Daniel, put her head on his shoulder, smiled when his arm tightened around her shoulders. As long as she was in his arms, she was safe. As long as Cassie was with them, she was safe. Once again the feeling that the entire ordeal was just about over filled her. Very soon they would be able to return home, and resume their lives.
"I want to catch the news before the movie starts," Daniel said, flipping through the channels to find CNN.
"…I just can't bear the thought of losing my baby!" the morbidly overweight woman declared, holding a white handkerchief to her red-blotched face. "If anyone knows anything, please call us!"
"Oh, hell," Casey muttered.
"That bitch!" Daniel said, tossing the remote onto the bed. "Let me up, babe."
Casey shifted, watched Daniel grab his cell phone.
"Yeah, I want to speak to Melody Wheaton. Now!" he demanded. "This is Doctor Daniel Jackson, and unless Ms. Wheaton and your newspaper want one hell of a lawsuit on your hands, you find her! I expect a call from her within five minutes. If I don't hear from her in that amount of time, you'll be hearing from my attorney!"
"What's going on?" Casey asked softly.
"Your…mother…called me just before I left the hotel in DC. I…uh…I told her off. Told her to just back off. Then I got a call from a reporter for the Tacoma News Tribune...who had received a call from...her," he said, nodding toward the television, where Helen Webster continued to cry about her 'missing daughter'. "After I gave the reporter the real facts, she promised to keep any connection between you and…those people…as far from the story as possible."
Casey shook her head. "You pissed her off if you stood up to her. She'll milk this for all it's worth. She'll even have the police believing that you had something to do with our disappearance."
"I have not yet begun to fight," he said, grinning slightly. The cell phone in his hand began to ring. "Doctor Jackson."
"It wasn't us," Melody Wheaton said immediately. "From what we can find out, Mrs. Webster contacted CNN directly."
"What can I do?"
"Well, if I have your permission, I can run with the story of your wife's abuse, and Mrs. Webster's possible involvement. I can also talk to neighbors, family friends, find out what they think about her."
"Do it," Daniel replied. "The sooner the better."
"Can I have one of the local television stations call you for an on-air interview, sort of a rebuttal to Mrs. Webster?"
"Yeah, I'd like to do that." He listened, took a few quick notes on the notepad beside the hotel telephone. "Okay, I'll be here."
Cassie watched and listened. "Who is that woman?"
"My adoptive mother," Casey said flatly.
"Oh. Mom says she abused you."
"She did," Casey replied softly. Wondered where the fear was, the fear that seeing Helen Webster had always stirred in her. Examined the feeling of…detachment. Knew without thinking about it that Daniel's presence in her life, his love, was not only healing the hurts, the scars from her childhood, but was protecting her now as well.
"Bitch," Cassie spat.
"Cassandra! Your mother would come unglued to hear you say that!" Casey exclaimed.
"It's what Mom called her!" Cassie said in self-defense.
Daniel grinned. "It's what she is, Angel."
"I know," Casey admitted. Not admitting that she'd silently called the woman a bitch since she'd come to understand what the name implied.
"Somebody from KIRO is supposed to call me. They want to do a live interview with me," Daniel said quietly.
Casey nodded. "Whatever it takes to stop her."
It was a little over an hour later when the cell phone rang again. CNN was running the interview as well. Casey and Cassie watched as photographs of themselves were put up on the screen. They had opted to watch the affair in Cassie's room, so that they could listen, and if one of them sneezed …or coughed, it wouldn't be heard.
"Doctor Jackson, we understand that the police in Washington DC have cleared you of any compliance in the abduction of your wife and Ms Fraiser." The female reporter was all business. This was a big story, and there were whispered rumors about a possible connection to a powerful senator.
"That's correct. I understand that they were just doing their jobs, but to be looked at as a suspect when my Wife, and the daughter of one of my best friends, have been kidnapped…I just wanted the police to get out there and find her…find them."
"I understand. I also understand that you have been in contact with the police and the FBI, who have been called in on this investigation."
"Yes, I have been," Daniel replied. Okay, so the truth was that Jack was intercepting all communications. But he knew what was going on.
"It's been reported that you may be leaving the country within a day or so on business for the Air Force."
"That's true, I might have to fly to Egypt. I don't want to go. What I want to do is look for my Wife. I want to be out there talking to witnesses, finding any clues that could help me find her. But I have a contract with the Air Force, and they'll hold me to it, especially if the dig is deemed important enough. Again, I have to trust the authorities to do their best…to find Casey and Cassie."
"Doctor Jackson, I'm sure you've seen the interview with your wife's mother. We understand that Mrs. Jackson has been estranged from her family for some time."
Daniel smiled coldly. "Yes, she has been. She's dealing with the emotional and mental abuse that she suffered during her childhood in that house. She was sexually abused by the so-called 'family doctor'. Helen Webster was an accomplice in that abuse."
"How so?"
"She had…arranged…for the doctor to have access to Casey. In return for 'free' medical care for herself and both adopted daughters."
"Do you have proof of this, Doctor Jackson?"
"I'm afraid I can't answer that question at this time. It's an on-going investigation."
"Doctor Jackson, thank you for speaking with us. We all pray that your wife, and Cassandra Fraiser, will be found soon, and unharmed."
"Thank you, I'll accept all the prayers and good thoughts for them that I can get." He clicked the cell phone closed. Deal with that, bitch!
A A A A A A
Twenty-five hundred miles away, Helen Webster stared at the television. That little slut! She wasn't supposed to tell anyone what had happened in Hayling's office! She settled back onto the couch. Hayling was dead. They couldn't prove anything. It was her word against that little whore's word, and no one would believe a whore!
Frank Webster looked at his wife. "If I find out that's true, I'll kick your fat ass out of here," he said quietly.
The heavy woman smirked. "You haven't got the balls. You're too afraid of pain."
"I wonder how long you'd last in prison," Frank said menacingly. "I'm sure the police would believe that you were an accomplice to that doctor. Considering that I have…proof…of your assaults on me." He rubbed a hand over his scarred chest and belly.
For the first time in more years than she could remember, Helen Webster felt fear. She pulled herself off of the couch, hurried into the kitchen. Sheryl would help her. Yes, her baby girl...her good girl...would know just what to do.
Across town, Sheryl Webster shuddered. If her mother was guilty of…that…She looked at her husband.
"I don't want her near the kids. Not until we know for sure," Carl said. He had never liked Helen Webster. Feared that Sheryl was becoming just like her angry, hate-filled mother. If that woman was guilty of abusing…or at least putting her oldest daughter at risk for abuse…it was no wonder Casey had left that house, never to return!
Sheryl nodded her head. Memories began to flood into her mind. She examined them, began to see things…events…in a different light. Didn't like what she saw. Nor was she comfortable with her part in those events. When the phone rang, she listened for a moment, then quietly hung up. She couldn't deal with…her…right now.
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