37
Following instructions, she parked on Church Street in downtown Lynchburg, Virginia, and walked two blocks to Main. Midday traffic was heavy in the old section of town. The James River could be seen in the distance. She was certain someone was watching and she hoped it was Jeff. The reservation at the RA Bistro was in her name, again, pursuant to instructions. She asked the hostess for a booth in the rear, and that’s where she sat at exactly noon, Wednesday, January 14. She ordered a soft drink and began fiddling with her cell phone. She also kept an eye on the door as the lunch crowd slowly drifted in. Ten minutes later, Jeff appeared from nowhere and sat across from her. They exchanged hellos. She asked, “Was I followed?”
“That’s always the assumption, right? How was Washington?”
“I had a delightful dinner with my parents, for the first time in modern history. In fact, I cannot remember the last time the three of us ate a meal together. Pretty sad, don’t you think?”
“At least you have both parents. Did you tell your mother about the FBI raid?”
“I did, and I asked her to make a call or two. She will, but she’s not too sure what will happen.”
“How’s Marshall?”
“Swell, thanks, he sends his regards. I have a couple of questions for you. Did you call the office on Monday and warn us about the FBI raid?”
Jeff smiled and looked away, and it was one of those moments when she wanted to scream at him. She knew he would not answer the question. “Okay,” she said. “Have you heard the news about Buddy Ryzer?”
He frowned and said, “Yes. Just awful. Another casualty in the coal wars. Too bad we can’t find a lawyer willing to take on Lonerock Coal and the boys at Casper Slate.”
“Was that a shot at me?”
“No, it was not.”
A friendly waiter stopped by, went through the daily specials, and disappeared.
“Third question,” Samantha said.
“Why am I getting grilled? I had in mind a pleasant little lunch a long way from the boredom of Brady. You seem pretty edgy.”
“How many of the documents have you removed from Gray Mountain? We were there last weekend. I woke up at 4:40 a.m. Sunday and you were gone. I freaked out for a minute. You sneaked back in around five, got all cuddly as if nothing had happened. I saw the backpacks, all three of them. You kept moving them around, and they were noticeably heavier when we left. Level with me, Jeff. I know too much.”
He took a deep breath, glanced around, cracked a few knuckles, and said, “About a third, and I need to get the rest of them.”
“Where are you taking them?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s say they’re well hidden. Jarrett London needs the documents, all of them, as soon as possible. He’ll tender them to the court and at that point they’ll be safe. I need your assistance in getting them away from Gray Mountain.”
“I know, Jeff, I know. I’m not stupid. You need me for cover, a chick who’ll put out by the fire during long romantic weekends on the property. A girl, any girl will do, so that the bad guys will figure we’re just kayaking and grilling on the porch, a couple of lovebirds screwing away the long winter nights while you sneak through the woods with the files.”
He smiled and said, “Pretty close, but not just any girl will do, you know? You were carefully chosen.”
“I’m so honored.”
“If you’ll help me, we can get them out this weekend and be done with it.”
“I’m not touching the documents, Jeff.”
“You don’t have to. Just be the girl. They know who you are. They’re watching you too. They picked up your trail three months ago when you came to town and started hanging around with Donovan.”
The salads arrived and Jeff asked for a beer. After several bites, he said, “Please, Samantha, I need your help.”
“I’m not sure I follow you. Why can’t you just sneak onto the property tonight, or tomorrow night, all by yourself, get the documents, load them up, and take them to Jarrett London’s office in Louisville? Why would that be so complicated?”
Another roll of the eyes, another glance at nearby eavesdroppers, another bite of salad. “Here’s why. It’s too risky. They’re always watching, okay?”
“Right now, they’re watching you?”
He rubbed his chin and pondered the question. “They probably know I’m somewhere in Lynchburg, Virginia. Maybe not exactly where, but they keep track. Remember, Samantha, they have all the money in the world and they make their own rules. They figure I’m the link to the documents. They can’t find them anywhere else, so if it costs a fortune to track me, no big deal.” The beer arrived and he took a sip. “If I go to Gray Mountain on the weekends with you, they’re not suspicious, and why should they be? Two thirty-year-olds in a cabin deep in the woods, just having a little romance, as you say. I’m sure they’re close by, but it makes sense that we’re there. On the other hand, if I were to go there alone, their radar goes way up. They might provoke an encounter, something ugly so they could see what I’m doing. You never know. It’s a chess match, Samantha, they’re trying to predict what I’ll do, and I’m trying to stay one step ahead of them. I have the advantage of knowing my next move. They have the advantage of unlimited muscle. If either side makes a mistake, someone will get hurt.” He took another sip and glanced at a couple reading menus ten feet away. “And, I gotta tell you. I’m tired. I’m really tired, exhausted, running on fumes, you know? I need to get rid of the documents before I do something stupid because of fatigue.”
“What are you driving right now?”
“A Volkswagen Beetle, from Casey’s Rent-A-Wreck in Roanoke. Forty bucks cash per day, plus gas and mileage. Really cute.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “Do they know I’m here?”
“I don’t know what they know, but I am assuming they’re tracking you. And they’ll continue to monitor both of us until the documents are turned over. I don’t know this for a fact, but I would bet all the money I have.”
“I find this hard to believe.”
“Don’t be naive, Samantha. There’s too much at stake.”
When she walked into her office at 5:20 that afternoon, her computer was sitting on her desk, precisely where it had been before the FBI took it on Monday. The keyboard and printer were in place; all wires running where they were supposed to run. As she stared at it Mattie walked to her door and said, “Surprise, surprise, huh?”
“When did this find its way back?”
“About an hour ago. One of the agents brought it over. Guess they realized there was nothing on it.”
That, or Karen Kofer had far more friends than she would admit to. Samantha wanted to call her mother, but in her current state of paranoia she decided to wait.
“The Ryzer funeral is Friday afternoon,” Mattie said. “You want to ride with me?”
“Sure. Thanks, Mattie.”