Thin Blood Thick Water (Clueless Resolutions Book 2) Page 5

  Practical jokes and gags between the couple had become routine since their close relationship began. Each of them recognized this good-natured, private type of ‘teasing’ between themselves as an intimate sign of the mutual strong feelings they had for each other. Although a discussion about the subject had never occurred, both Max and Maggie felt that the word ‘love’, when used often and spoken automatically, showed a callousness that demeaned the true meaning of the term, and classed it in the same category of sincerity as ‘Good morning’, ‘Excuse me’, ‘Sorry’, ‘Pardon me’, and ‘Thank you so much’.

  Maggie’s kidding around had jolted Max back into his more typical relaxed demeanor.

  “I have been a little stressed,” Max said. “With the flight, being followed along the way, and dealing with this rather spooky hideaway...” he trailed off, letting out a sigh of relief. He gestured around the surroundings and added, “The Laboratory owns it, and Chip set it up for our stay for a couple of days. It beats a hotel, don’t you think?” Maggie nodded her approval.

  “Since we’re on the subject”, Max continued, “I want to check something else Chip has set up. Follow me,” he said beckoning her with his finger. He went into a bathroom off of a hallway to the rear bedroom. He began to feel around under the sink cabinet and, silently, a portion of the three-section wall mirror slid open to expose a wall safe with a digital number pad on the door. Looking at his cell phone keys he entered on the pad the numbers 88 7777 2 7. With a soft click, the door opened a crack. He pulled it open and inside was a bound stack of fifty dollar bills, the emergency phone number of USAP headquarters, two black automatic pistols and two boxes of 9 millimeter ammunition. Maggie was astonished and a slight gasp escaped her lips.

  “Are those here for us?” she asked wide-eyed. Max explained that they were here for anyone connected with USAP for emergency purposes. He was aware that she didn’t know the opening code and told her it was the letters used for a cell phone texting message, U, S, A, and P.

  “We shouldn’t need them on this trip but it’s good to know about for an emergency, don’t you think?” Max asked, referencing the guns. Maggie thought about it for a moment and hesitatingly agreed.

  “I dated a guy in college who was in the military ROTC,” she said solemnly. “He was a gun nut and insisted I learn how to handle a pistol. We went to a shooting range and practiced a couple of times.” Max gave her a one eyebrow glance, faking jealousy. Maggie started to explain the past romantic involvement and stopped when she realized that Max was mocking her seriousness. She lightened up a little. College was eight years ago, and she had been engrossed in building a career. Maggie had dated at times but hadn’t been involved with a man after her school days, until she met Max. Her past romances were essentially forgotten.

  “Well, I don’t remember a whole lot about him, but the memory of shooting the guns lingers on,” Maggie retorted, feigning a warning look through squinted eyes. They shared a chuckle as Max wiped off any fingerprints with a hand towel and closed the safe. He allowed Maggie to locate, and give a second push on the button below the counter, which closed the concealing mirror section.

  They then checked the rear entrance foyer which had the garage entry door to the left and a door to an outside enclosed patio on the right. As Max had been informed, there was a late-model Land Rover SUV parked inside the three-car garage. In addition to the SUV there was a black, tri-wheeled motorcycle with a small boat trailer attached to the rear. Hanging on a hoist cable above the trailer was a two-seat ‘Skidoo’ water jet. Off to the side, a twin-seated ‘Snow Kat’ snowmobile was suspended, ready for loading onto the trailer during the next winter season.

  When back in the kitchen, Max opened his carry-on bag and retrieved an envelope from within. Opening it, he took out a handful of Canadian currency bills for their use as needed during their stay.

  “There’s no lack of varied transportation, that’s for sure!” Maggie commented.

  “With the floatplane and motor launch in the boat house, and the garage full of rides, I’d say all bases were covered,” Max said, looking searchingly into her eyes. “And speaking of covered, did you notice an empty spare bedroom when you toured the upper deck?” he asked with a glint of good humor in his eyes. Max pulled his co-adventurer into a full body press, with his arms surrounding her waist.

  “It so happens I did see four bedrooms. One has an en suite bath,” Maggie reported. “Would you like me to show you around?” she asked seductively, as a slight flush warmed her cheeks.

  “Where you lead, I shall follow,” was Max’s reply, releasing her and bowing with a foolishly-corny Shakespearian flourish. Their mutual sense was that it was time to insert some much-needed one-on-one physical and emotional interaction into their business trip. They shared a long kiss and, with words being unnecessary, they strode up the stairway, discarding unneeded clothing items along the way.

  The daytime sky was transforming to a glowing red sunset as Max drove the Land Rover across a single-lane causeway to the main peninsular of Halifax. They drove along on narrow, two-lane country roadway which ended on a city street following the directions to the subject property of their inspection assignment. As they drove, Max recited to Maggie the phone conversation with the watchman at the Bickford Laboratory.

  “I suggest that we take a quick look around the place and then find an eating place with a bar,” he recommended.

  “That’s the second best suggestion you’ve made today,” she said, flashing her trademark after-hours smile, which Max adored.

  The map route took them directly to the subject property within seven minutes. A crushed seashell-covered parking area was off a laneway. Set on a tiny island, accessible across a thirty foot floating dock, the laboratory entrance was set into a slightly weather-beaten clapboard exterior facing the parking area. The three-sides of the opposite end of the gray, stucco-sided exterior bordered on the local ocean cove. Max glanced down along the side of the structure as Maggie rang the main door buzzer. The door opened and a late-middle-aged, uniformed watchman, stepped out to greet the strangers. He was a heavy-set man with slightly bowed legs and a dark-skinned Native Canadian Indian facial appearance. He carried a flashlight, a belt radio and had a baton hanging from a peace officers belt, but no further visible weaponry. After introducing themselves, Howard the watchman, escorted the inspectors through the various testing and examination labs and a small, three-tiered-seating lecture room. A beeper from his belt-holstered ‘walkie-talkie’ sounded and the watchman excused himself as he stepped away through a doorway to respond. As muffled speech came from around the corner Max motioned to Maggie as he walked down a short hallway toward what was apparently going to be the next room to see. Max opened the thick door and was startled to see what appeared to be the skinned, gutted carcass of a large deer, or small moose, hanging by one of its hind legs from a chain hoist. Stale blood was splattered around the tiled floor. Feeling the cold air, they realized that the space was refrigerated.

  “I’m sorry, that locked room is off limits!” Howard said loudly as he stepped in front of Maggie and Max, “You’ll have to let me show you the rest of the property.” He took Max firmly by the arm and ushered him, as he gestured to Maggie, out into the hallway, pulling the door closed as they left. Without further explanation he motioned them to follow as he walked them through the rest of the facility.

  There was minimal conversation during the remaining tour of the facilities and Max, having thanked Howard for the tour, indicated that he would return around 8 AM on the next day, for measurements and video recording.

  The two ‘investigators’ checked the map in the Land Rover and located a restaurant in the nearby city of Halifax.

  After a few twists and turns the chosen destination had not been located but, in the process, a curbside café attracted Maggie’s attention. Max pulled to the curb in order to further investigate the possibilities for their evening meal. They strolled back along a red brick sidewalk to
the entrance and read the menu showing through the curtained front window of ‘Red Sally’s Café’. Satisfied that the venue suited their needs, they entered the dimly lit, pub-style setting. A waitress, serving as hostess of the moment, seated them at a corner table off one end of a long, straight bar.

  “I like this place Max, what do you think?” asked Maggie, expecting nothing more than complete agreement.

  “It looks okay to me. I’m starved and real thirsty,” was Max’s response.

  Vodka martinis were served and a mixed seafood platter for two was ordered.

  “Is this adventure proving to be enjoyable so far?” Max asked, seeking Maggie’s reaction to the out-of-the-ordinary expedition they were involved in.

  “An adventure, yes, interesting, yes,” Maggie answered. “But the enjoyment seems to be hiding behind the intrigue, Max. What was that thing in the laboratory freezer room and why did the watchman react that way? Was that other airplane really following us when we flew in?”

  “Questions, questions, all the questions, I’ve had questions in my mind constantly since I became a USAP Partner, Mag,” Max admitted. “I wanted to listen, and learn, so that I could get up to speed with the group. I have learned a lot, but now I have questions about some of what I’ve learned, and there is nobody that I feel I can ask.”

  “You sound like you’re in over your head, Max, and that isn’t like you,” Maggie confided. “Are you having second thoughts about the Partnership?”

  The two puzzled over unanswered issues as they downed the meal and ordered a second round of drinks. To Max, the room seemed to get larger as he felt like he was shrinking into a corner. Maggie had left to go to the ladies room and he was scanning the crowd of diners wondering why she was gone so long. A waitress-type woman dressed in what seemed to Max to be almost a disguise, came by and asked him, in a pigeon-English sort of accent, if he wanted her to do anything for him. He declined and she answered “Okay, sweetie” in that distinctive accent. Max heard a tingling, bell-sounding tone and felt as if he was being watched. It appeared that some sort of altar was being set up near the table where he and Maggie were seated.

  “Max…! Max…! What’s wrong with you?” Maggie was asking, as she shook him by the shoulder. "Are you okay? You look like you’re spaced out or something.” With that, Maggie beckoned to a waitress and ordered a black coffee for Max and a regular with cream for herself.

  “Maggie, where did you go?” he asked. “I couldn’t see you, and there were so many people milling around like they were getting ready for some sort of ceremony.”

  “I don’t know but I think there is something wrong with the second martinis,” she responded. “I didn’t try mine yet, and I don’t think I will,” she added. While Max sipped his black coffee, she signaled for their check. After paying the bill with the Canadian bills Max handed to her, they left the Red Café. On slightly wobbly legs as Maggie held his arm, Max and she made it back to the parked Land Rover. Maggie drove while Max manned the map as they made their way, with little conversation other than directional information, back to the bungalow on the river island.

  The river waters, at high tide level, could be heard lapping at the edge of the unlighted causeway surface as Maggie drove the SUV toward their destination. She steered up onto the garage apron and continued into the garage as the automatic activator opened the door, and then closed it behind them.

  Another cup of coffee brought Max back to grips with his situation with a banging headache. Maggie had suppressed her nervousness up until then but now, seeing Max as normal, she let loose with a tirade of obscenities, extremely agitated but not knowing at whom, or at what.

  “What in the hell is going on, Max? I didn’t have any of that second martini because I was scared to death being in that strange place and with you looking like you were high on some bad dope, or something! All I got was the usual little buzz from the one drink.”

  “I don’t know, Mag. I only had a couple of sips of the second round. It could have been the food for all I know, but one thing is for sure; I feel like shit and I’m going to puke!” Max gurgled as he got off the counter stool and rushed into the half-bathroom in the nearby hallway. Shortly thereafter, Max, pale and looking tired, decided that he would take a shower and turn in for the night.

  “Let’s hope tomorrow will be a better day, Maggie,” he said, grimly.

  A bright Saturday dawned over the rolling hills and calm waters of Nova Scotia Bay and Max arose to the smell of fresh coffee brewing along with the sound of bacon sizzling.

  “Good morning, sunshine!” Maggie said, as Max strolled into the breakfast area. “How are you feeling after a rough night?” she asked.

  “Better, but not wiser,” he retorted regrettably. I haven’t gotten that whacked since my first pass into town after seven weeks of combat training. I was a lot younger then and passed it off as being naive. I can’t use that as an excuse now, though.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Max,” she said soothingly. “I would probably have been right along with you if I hadn’t gone to the ladies’ room. Which brings up the question, why would anyone have the motive to dope our drinks in a supposedly respectable restaurant like that?”

  With questions on both of their minds, the couple showered, dressed and proceeded out to start the formal inspection of the Bickford Laboratory. While driving to the property, Max was trying to rationalize whether there was any connection with the events of the previous evening and the up-coming inspection.

  “Do you think anyone would have a reason to side-track the purchase?” Maggie queried.

  “Not that I know of, but, if it turns out that way, I’ll have a few questions for those back at USAP as to why we weren’t advised of it,” Max stated resolutely.

  There were two cars and a motorcycle in the parking lot when the inspectors arrived at the laboratory site. Max gathered his measuring equipment and camera while Maggie set up a voice recorder. A uniformed watchman (not Howard) let them in and suggested a guided tour but Max explained about their pre-inspection trip the evening before. He and Maggie went about the measuring and checklist completion with Max dictating and taking pictures as Maggie held the recorder. Working as a team it went faster than usual. In the lunch room area, a supposed employee introduced himself as Harrison Bickford, a nephew of the deceased Partner. He was a marine biology student at a downtown college. He lived with his mother. She was a sister of the widowed woman who had been married to another deceased Bickford brother. Harrison worked at the lab part time.

  Having completed the interior inspection, Max and Maggie measured and took pictures of the exterior of the structure. As Max dictated his final observations into the recorder, a portly gentleman approached them, introducing himself to Maggie as a board member of a local lending institution. He was leaving as he met Max, shook hands with him and was on his way.

  “Well, you two had an involved conversation, it seems,” Max kidded with Maggie.

  “You know how we financial people are Max, we love to talk about money,” she said with a laugh. “I did get some questions about where we dined last night.”

  “Was there any discussion as to why he was here? Max asked.

  Maggie told Max that the financier avoided any discussion concerning his involvement with the Bickford property, or the business, and she had no ready reason to pursue it. Max understood, but asked how the subject of the restaurant came about. Maggie wasn’t sure as to exactly how, but as a member of a local commerce committee, perhaps his interest was in whether she and Max had seen much of the city, and what their impression was.

  With the physical inspection completed, the two travelers went on their way. During the drive back to the bungalow Maggie asked Max if he had enough information to give the Partners a market value estimate of the laboratory. Max explained that he had to research the commercial and industrial real estate data pertaining to the general location of the laboratory, which he would assemble through his contacts with
in the international real estate appraisal associations, and apply the applicable specifics to the subject property. The resulting analysis would provide him with a value, in Canadian dollars which could be translated to the current equivalent in American currency. That process would be done from his USAP office.

  “So, are we done with the assignment here?” Maggie asked.

  “Yes, that’s about it Mag,” he replied. “We could explore the Island a bit if you’d like, but I’ve got another idea,” he hinted with a mischievous look. “Let’s pack up and I’ll fill you in.”

  They had reached the river island at that point. With the SUV parked back in the garage, they went into the bungalow to have some lunch and discuss Max’s plan.

  Chapter 10

  Max had gotten the information that he needed which finalized the need for him to be in Nova Scotia. He and Maggie had also experienced some excitement, which neither of them had bargained for, but that was a matter to be discussed at a later time and place. His suggestion to Maggie, while they lunched on micro-wave-heated frozen pizza that Maggie prepared, was to stow their gear in the Beaver floatplane and fly south to coastal Maine. There, they could finish their weekend getaway exploring the ‘down east coast’.

  “That sounds like a capital idea to me Max,” she responded. “I’m still a little unsettled over what happened last night, I don’t know about you.”

  “My feelings, exactly,” he agreed. “We’re here on an out-of-the-country, pre-arranged visit, and under pre-arranged conditions, with which I’m not that comfortable. The sooner we get back over the border, the better.”

  Maggie washed the used dishes and utensils and packed their belongings while Max went out into the attached boathouse to ready the floatplane for flight.

  A check of the flight systems analysis showed everything to be in order and remaining fuel for 30-40 minutes of flight time. At the inland end of the boathouse, Max found a fuel drum. He un-reeled the fuel hose to the front of the right wing and stepped up on a stepladder. With the spout inserted into the opened fuel receptacle, he went over to the drum and cranked out 20 gallons. He repeated this on the left fuel tank.