Hindsight, p.30
Hindsight, page 30
“Wait a minute.” Olivia was gone from the phone. “I have it here.” Kendra could imagine her fingers racing through the text. “I see what you mean. But the reporter is very gushy and verbose. I’ll try to cut it down for you. The deed…” Silence as she read it. “It was very generous and pretty cut-and-dried. No stipulations except for a clause that refused permission for any renovations or outbuildings to be built on a small specified area of the property. Over later years there were several requests to overturn that clause but it was never permitted.”
“Any explanations?”
“Not really. Some people including this reporter thought it might be because any building might interfere with the view of the sea.” She paused. “But she mentions there were dozens of other gorgeous views on the property and there weren’t any clauses forbidding building near them. Regardless, the Woodward family was adamant about it. Or rather, Noreen Woodward, the matriarch of the family, was adamant. Several years later, her son James filed a request to permit the deed to be altered if the custodians of the school gave the family a fat fee.”
“Charming. Yes, that’s what jumped out at me. Trouble in paradise.”
“It didn’t last long. Mama squashed James’s request flat and he was immediately sent off to England. She must have really been pissed off because she also disinherited him.”
“Over that clause,” Kendra murmured. “It must have been important to her…”
“Or her son might have been a total jerk she’d been putting up with for far too long anyway.”
“Also possible. I’ve got to hang up, Olivia. I need to do some more research here. I think I remember another gossip book here written by Helena Sanders. I’ll call you back if I need you.”
“Just use me and toss me away.”
“Sorry, I think we just got very, very lucky.”
“Is Lynch there now?”
“Yes, he just got in and he’s being Lynch down with the guards at the gates.”
“And you’re excited and in a hurry and I’m keeping you. I want to be there, dammit.” Then she said quickly, “Forget it, call me when you can. But you’d better take care of my dog.”
“I will. And he’ll take care of me.”
“Of course he will. He has more sense than you. Bye.”
She cut the connection.
And Kendra went back to the shelves and rifled quickly through the books to find what else the very gossipy Helena Sanders had to reveal about the Woodwards.
Chapter
17
Kendra spent over an hour going through the books and photographs, but as fascinating as they were, there seemed to be little of relevance to her case. There were many photos of a young James Woodward who spearheaded the construction of the original buildings. Several photos showed him looking at blueprints with a bald, heavyset man with a mustache. The architect, perhaps?
One photo identified him as Alonzo Cortez. Kendra Googled his name and was surprised to see his face on an entire row of photos on the search results page.
There was actually a Wikipedia entry for him and she quickly read it. At the end there were more vintage photos. One of them made her gasp.
“Holy shit,” she said aloud.
She sat there staring down at the book in front of her, breathing hard, her cheeks flushed with excitement. It had to be the answer. Why hadn’t she seen it before? Suddenly a lot of things were making sense. Right down to the sticky oil on the bottom of Cardona’s shoes, she realized.
She picked up the phone. Her hand was shaking as she dialed Lynch. “I’ve got it,” she said the instant he picked up the call. “I was stupid. It was right there before me.”
“What was there before you?” he asked. “Juarez? Talk to me.”
“I’m trying to talk to you. No, not Juarez. You wanted me to forget about Juarez until you called me and maybe it was a good idea. I’m talking about what was in the deed to the property the Woodwards turned over to the foundation to create the school. Not much, just a clause that said a certain area in the property couldn’t be renovated or used by anyone. But it triggered my curiosity.”
“And you decided to pull that trigger.”
“I couldn’t help it. Particularly since it started a family feud between the matriarch of the family and her son, James, that was so intense he was disinherited.” She paused. “And sent him not only out of San Diego, but out of the country to England. Olivia and I agreed he had to have been a very bad boy to receive that degree of punishment, so I decided to check.”
“And you found?”
“I had to access a hell of a lot of computer and library records to get his history, but I found out the most from a gossip writer, Helena Sanders.”
“Not exactly a reputable source?”
“Be quiet. It made sense to me. James was pretty much the scum of the Earth from the moment he was born. He was spoiled rotten because his sister was born blind and his mother tried to give him everything he wanted to make up for the time she had to spend with her. He flunked out of several universities, became an alcoholic by age twenty, and was also addicted to gambling. Gambling takes money and what he couldn’t steal from his family coffers, he earned running drugs across the border.”
“Ahh, the plot thickens.”
“But then he appeared to suddenly have a lot of money, a very steady income.” She drew a deep breath and went for it. “So I was wondering if he’d started to transfer those drugs in another way.”
“Well, their estate was right on the water.”
“That’s what I thought, but that stretch of coastline has always been heavily patrolled. I think he found a better way. When these original buildings were being constructed, he worked with a man named Alonzo Cortez. He had an unusual specialty. Tunnels.”
He gave a low whistle. “Tunnels? As in all the way from Mexico?”
“We’re not all that far as the crow flies.”
“Or the gopher digs.”
“Yes, smuggling tunnels have been built from as early as 1912, and though they didn’t become really sophisticated until later in the century, they were always in high demand. Drug tunnels stretching even eighty or ninety miles weren’t uncommon. A tunnel on this property would be less than half that.” She paused. “And Alonzo Cortez was the expert who built them. The Woodward family was ultra-respectable and wealthy, and it would be a perfect cover…if James could get the big drug cartels to pay him for use of his tunnel.”
“Indeed, they would,” Lynch said thoughtfully.
“And it all could be true, because Mama Woodward abruptly decided to move the family from the property to another residence and build a special-needs school with the stipulation written into the deed.” She was speaking quickly, trying to convince him. “As for the tunnel, who knows? She might have had it sealed up or maybe had a stick of dynamite thrown into it so that no one could ever use it for that purpose again. Because she seems to have been very smart and probably thought that as long as it existed, James would find a way to get what he wanted.”
“And she finally sent him to England so that he could no longer stain the family honor?”
“Don’t make fun. It could be true. It makes a good story.”
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m impressed. I’m just trying to develop the story a little further.” He paused. “And Dietrich was from Elsworth, U.K., a short distance from Cambridge. He could have been a relative of James or some other member of the Woodward family. Or maybe someone who just heard the story in the local pub? If James was an alcoholic, he might have done a lot of bragging. Whatever. It might have intrigued Dietrich enough that he considered coming down here to see if there still was a tunnel and what his options were. To use it to transport drugs…or to extract Delgado, which would earn him a hell of a lot more money.”
“Delgado,” Kendra said definitely. “And Dietrich did his research and found the tunnel, but when he decided that he wanted to cut Cardona out of the deal, everything started to go wrong. There was no way he wanted to kill him on the property. I’m betting he had no choice. Maybe Cardona found out what he was doing and showed up here and confronted him. Or maybe they were partners and he got greedy. Dietrich killed him and then had to make it look like a drug deal gone bad. All he could do was hope we believed that Mr. Kim’s and Elaine’s deaths may have happened because they’d stumbled on cartel business.”
He was silent. “You’re sounding very certain, Kendra.”
“I am certain. He found the tunnel.” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. “Because I found it, too. Cortez hid the entrances to all his tunnels, but he always carved a symbol on a tree or wall nearby. I saw a picture of one of his tunnel entrances in Texas. A nearby tree had a very familiar carving. It was a four-leaf clover.”
“So?”
“There’s one just like it carved on Big Rock here on campus. I’ve felt it there since I was a little girl. When I found out what it was, I thought someone must have carved it there because they were wishing us good luck.” She jumped to her feet. “The tunnel is there somewhere, Lynch. I know it. Well, I almost know it. Even if it had been dynamited or walled over, he could have drilled through and opened it up by himself. But it would have taken time, and he couldn’t work in daylight.” She was heading for the door. “But we’ll know for sure after we go up there and take a look. I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at Lookout Point. We can go on to Big Rock together.”
“No. Stay where you are, Kendra. I can be back at the library in fifteen minutes.”
“It will be quicker if I meet you. I don’t want to wait. Because I think this may change everything, Lynch. I’ll take Harley and Agent Roberts and you’ll probably be at Lookout Point before I am.” She disconnected and grabbed the leash. She ran for the door. “Harley, come!”
Harley barked ecstatically as he jumped up, followed her, and then streaked past her as he ran out into the driveway.
Agent Roberts backed away warily as he caught sight of Kendra and then watched Harley leaping toward him, then galloping off across the campus. “Is there a problem, Dr. Michaels?”
So much for leashing Harley, she thought ruefully. He had caught the excitement that was zinging through her and thought it was playtime. Well, maybe it was. She might know very soon. “No, there may be a solution, Roberts. I need to check something. Come with me!” She turned and ran toward the cliff.
* * *
Agent Roberts aimed his flashlight into the brush. “We’re going in there?”
Kendra stepped ahead of him on the almost-imperceptible pathway. “It’s easier than it looks. I could do it blindfolded. Literally.”
She high-stepped over a large clump of brush. “Be careful, that’s actually a rock.”
“You do know your way around here.”
“Just like almost every other kid who’s ever gone to this school. Duck!”
Roberts lowered his head just in time to avoid a low-hanging branch. “Thanks.”
“That’s a little lower than it used to be. This way.” She led Roberts and Harley to the left as the path started a slow incline. Harley bounded ahead a few yards but always kept a watchful eye back to make sure Kendra was still within sight.
Roberts shone the flashlight around to get his bearings. “Are you sure this is the right way?”
“Positive. It’s the fastest way to Lookout Point where I’m supposed to meet Lynch. And the safest, believe it or not.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“We should be at Lookout Point in about ten minutes. And it won’t be—”
Harley had stopped.
Something was wrong.
Kendra stopped short. “Harley?”
The dog sniffed the air and looked around in every direction. His ears folded back and his tail lowered.
“What is it?” Roberts asked.
Kendra knelt beside Harley. “What’s wrong? What’s bothering you, boy?”
Harley let out a low growl. He was tearing around in a circle, excited, growling, sniffing.
Kendra lifted her head, listening, every sense alert. What the hell are you picking up, Harley…?
Then the dog sprinted into the brush, well off their path.
“Harley!”
Harley was gone.
Roberts aimed his flashlight into the dense foliage where the dog had disappeared. “Should we go after him?”
“We’d never catch him.” She cocked her head, still hearing the crackling sounds of Harley moving through the dense brush. “But remember this spot. We’ll come back with Lynch and the others if Harley doesn’t show up.”
“Are you sure?”
She wasn’t sure of anything right now. She wanted to be out there with Harley, tracking down whatever had bothered him.
Focus. Stay on target.
“Yes. Let’s stick to the plan.”
She turned back toward the main path and pushed on. It had become more overgrown than she remembered. Did the current generation of students even use it anymore? Maybe the administrators had finally won their battle to keep the area off limits.
They emerged from the brush into a small clearing. “How much farther?” Roberts asked.
“Maybe five minutes to Lookout Point. If we hurry, maybe we can—”
Two sharp whistles cut through the air.
Roberts inhaled sharply and jerked. He fell to his knees and then tumbled to the ground.
“Roberts!” Kendra gasped.
“Down—” His eyes were fixed on Kendra. His flashlight dropped from his hand. “Get—down.” He rolled over onto his back, his breath catching in a tortured rasping sound.
The beam from his flashlight pierced the darkness where he lay, and then she saw the blood.
Blood everywhere. On his hands, his neck, and spreading across his crisp white shirt…
God, no.
“Hands where I can see them, Kendra.”
She froze. She recognized Dietrich’s British accent immediately. She slowly raised her hands, still not facing him.
“Hand me his gun. And yours.”
She didn’t move, trying to think. Her hand tightened on the flashlight in her hand. “Okay.” Then she shrugged off her jacket and balled it up.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dietrich asked harshly.
“Trying to give him a chance, you son of a bitch. You can see I’m not trying to go for a weapon.”
“Waste of time. He’s a dead man anyway. The guns. Carefully.”
She unsnapped Roberts’s shoulder holster and pulled out his automatic with her thumb and forefinger. The agent desperately shook his head no.
“I have to.” She tossed the gun behind her, then reached into her jacket for her own weapon and tossed it.
“Very good,” Dietrich said. “Now slowly turn around.”
“In a minute.”
“Don’t be stupid, Kendra.”
“In a minute,” she repeated as she knelt beside Roberts. “You’re not going to kill me until you absolutely have to or you would have done it already.” She pressed her balled-up jacket over the agent’s bleeding torso. “Hold this against the wound, Roberts.”
Roberts did as she ordered, a move that caused him to grimace in pain.
But as he did it, he revealed a switchblade knife that he’d managed to take out of his pocket when he’d been writhing on the ground the moment before.
Kendra inhaled sharply, quickly slipping the knife into her sleeve as she tucked the jacket more closely on the wound.
Then she turned to face Dietrich. He had just kicked their guns into the brush, and he held his own firearm leveled at her chest. He was too far away from her for her to use that knife, she realized immediately. The minute she made a movement toward him, he’d pull that trigger. He wanted to pull it. She could see the anticipation in his expression. But he hadn’t pulled it. Why? The beam of her flashlight picked up the highlights in his hair and eyebrows, giving him an almost ethereal appearance. His nose had been recently broken, and his cheeks were still bruised from his encounter with Jessie. But now she could also see that besides the anticipation, there was excitement. He was enjoying this.
“What a pleasant surprise,” he said. “This is scheduled to be a very busy night and I was afraid I’d have to make a special trip back to take care of you.” His lips curled. “You were going somewhere in a hurry. Should I guess where?”
“Nowhere special. Just up the hill to meet half of the local FBI field office. And about twenty of San Diego’s finest. Care to join me?”
“You may be remarkable at many things, Kendra, but lying isn’t one of them. I know there are only a few FBI personnel left here. I have more than enough support to take them out.”
“For your scheme to smuggle Delgado out of Mexico and into Russia? This was just going to be the way station, wasn’t it?”
Dietrich was trying to be cool but she could see her knowledge rattled him. A slight intake of breath, shifting in place, darting of his eyes…
Push him a little more. “We all know what you’re doing here,” she continued. “And we found out about the old tunnel. You think you’re the only one who knows about that?”
He was silent. “Not now evidently. But it must be a fairly recent discovery or this place would be crawling with FBI. I believe I’m safe. It doesn’t matter what you know now.”
“But you relied on no one knowing before. Or at least you hoped. That needed to stay a secret for any of this to work. Something made you murder Mr. Kim and Elaine.” She added bitterly, “You didn’t expect that you’d run across two people who cared so much about this place and the children here that they wouldn’t give up until they knew it was safe. They were onto you, weren’t they? It’s logical that you’d have to have a drill or some special equipment to break the seal on the tunnel. What Elaine must have seen was you moving it from the shore to take it to Big Rock. When you found out that they knew, you couldn’t afford to let them live.”
He shrugged. “Collateral damage. Believe me, it’s nothing I planned or even wanted to do. Everything was going wrong. I was trying to keep from killing that bitch to avoid attracting attention. Even her damn dog was a problem. Once he heard me in the trees on the cliff and went crazy after me, I just barely got away. Then I had to worry about whether shooting him would cause more of a problem than just trying to avoid him and had to do even more research.” He shrugged. “But by then it was too late to matter. I knew she’d have to be taken out anyway. But I was cursing her, because her death made my job much more difficult.”
