Mystery: Family Ties: Mystery and Suspense Page 2

  “Thank you,” Clark muttered and followed her directions. As she was told, agent Todd Gibson’s office was easy to find and she proceeded to knock on his door. “Agent Gibson, my name is Agent Asa Clark. I am here for the case of the two missing FBI agents.”

  “Ah, Agent Clark, you finally arrived,” the man sitting behind the desk said sarcastically, making Asa feel small and insignificant. “Come in, come in, we have a lot to discuss.”

  “Agent Gibson,” Clark said calmly. “I was assigned the case and was told that you will be helping me with the case.”

  “Why not, right? What better things do we have to do in here?” Gibson continued with the same sarcastic tone. “Anyway, I suppose you are just one of the many Jennifer Shepherd’s feminist cronies. Don’t worry, we are going to assist you with the case.”

  “I was sent here by Deputy Director Jennifer Shepherd, but I can assure you that means nothing to me,” Clark didn’t let the man intimidate her.

  “So, you are not here to shake up our small town branch?” The man asked ironically.

  “No, I am here to solve the case of two missing FBI agents.” The woman returned. “Can you give me their reports on the case they were working on?” She demanded immediately after that, deciding that it was of little use to argue with the man.

  “Oh, yes, you will have the reports, but don’t you think even for a minute, that we will let you command us.”

  “I never expected that of you, sir,” Clark answered and went outside to wait for the files. A desk was assigned to her for the time she was going to be in Montana and one of the secretaries brought her the reports, showing her around and pointing towards the coffee machine.

  Chapter 4

  The rest of the day, Asa Clark spent in reviewing the paperwork of the missing agents. Slowly, she started to understand what the case was all about. Smith and Holliday had been investigating the possible existence of a terrorist organization, founded in the family circles of Montana. The agents' reports were all about the right-wing demographic in the area, as well as the investigation of cells of domestic terrorists in the same area.

  As Asa had already noticed there wasn’t much cyber chatter or cameras in this remote area of the country, so Smith and Holliday had to conduct many interviews around the region. “Shit,” agent Clark muttered. As most modern people, she was counting on the modern technology to help her with the investigation, but it seemed that this time around that would not be possible.

  She went through the files again and again, until the words in them became familiar to her. It wasn’t obvious at first to her. The accidents seemed random, as if they were just a series of unfortunate events in rural Montana, which had more cattle than people. All the events were noted by the agents and categorized by date and geographical position. The connections between them was so subtle that it was a miracle that someone noticed the connection between them at all. Or at least no one, who wasn’t looking for that precise connection.

  Smith and Holliday had red flagged a few small towns and ranches in the area, after connecting the points and finding the elusive connection. That had been how the two agents started their trip around Montana, doing research and asking a lot of questions. However, after months of doing just that, they still had nothing solid or at least a person to call a suspect.

  The small terrorist acts hadn’t been picked up on at first. The lack of obvious connection between them effectively throwing the local police off the scent, but then the FBI had started the investigation. They acted carefully, never letting people know that they were interested in the case. Whoever was behind the terrorist acts wouldn’t expect anyone to look into the case, and the FBI agent had managed to keep it that way.

  The secretary, Ann Shrump, had tried to help her with the file and Asa used her as a listening device. “Here we have a list of small fires started near government buildings,” Asa said to her. “All the fires can pass as accidents, except for the fact that there is a distinct pattern that speak of a plan.”

  “Tom, ugh, I mean agent Smith, thought that each person in the organization, if there was one, was doing his or her part. For example, the same person started all the fires and another does the braking of the cars, a third one shoots against the police…”

  “Yeah, that sounds logical,” Asa agreed. “But, how do we find those people? They seem to be going all over the state.”

  “Someone around here has to have some idea of what is going on, you know,” Ann added, pointing at the notes on the table.

  “I bet Agent Smith thought the same,” Asa pointed.

  Ann left shortly after that, leaving Asa alone to deal with the reports. She stretched her arms slowly upwards and sighed in relief as her body seemed to relax. Her legs were hurting from sitting for so long in the same position, but Asa was ready to stay the whole night if needed. She had already found a hotel nearby and made a reservation. Her luggage was waiting for her by the front desk and Ann had assured her that she could call a taxi at any hour of the night.

  Around four in the evening, Asa decided to take a break and went to the hotel to take a shower and eat something. The day had proved to be filled with too many surprised and unanswered questions for her taste. Even away from the FBI office, Agent Clark couldn’t stop thinking about the case, wishing she had found something to start with.

  She had taken her luggage to the room and quickly changed into something more comfortable. She didn’t think she could face wearing the usual suit after a whole day spent in the plane and the office. The office was only a few blocks away and on her way back, Asa decided to walk, instead of take a taxi. It felt good to stretch her legs and get some fresh air.

  Back at the office, she was greeted by the kindly lady behind the front desk, who was surprised to see her back so soon and recommended she take the rest of the day off. Asa smiled at her genuine concern, but assured her that she was okay and that there was work to be done.

  Unsurprisingly, almost everyone in the office had left by that point, leaving behind only the night shift, agent Gibson and herself. Within ten minutes of reading through the files, Asa realized that there was nothing more to be learned from them. Right at that moment, someone cleared his throat behind her and Asa jerked her head up. Agent Gibson was walking in her direction, putting on his jacket and looking ready to go home.

  “Isn’t it time to wrap it up for the day?” Gibson asked her.

  “Yes, you are probably right,” Asa agreed. “But, what do you think about the fact that most of the information in these files is collected from people, whose names are not even mentioned?”

  “Oh, you know how small towns work. Here people are always in each other’s pockets. In here you run the risk of everyone ganging up on you if you say the wrong thing to the wrong person. Smith and Holliday were aware of that fact and acted accordingly.”

  “I understand,” Asa agreed. After retracing all the data, Asa Clark was convinced that the case wasn’t going to be as simple as it seemed to her at the beginning. Agent Gibson, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying her discomfort too much and that only angered her more.

  “Come on, let’s go eat something,” Gibson offered, as a way to placate her. “I know the perfect place, where you can both eat and drink.”

  Chapter 5

  Agent Gibson took Asa to a country bar and grill in the area, and they arrived not long after the place had almost filled with customers. Gibson seemed to be known to everyone and the two of them had to stop at more than one table to answer questions and greet people. Once again, Asa saw one of the perks of the small towns, and smiled at the way people welcomed her in the town.

  The bar seemed like a fun place for the local people, and the two FBI agents chose a table in the back of the bar, where they were away from the big crowd. The bar was divided into two sections – one for the families, where people could take their children, and another for grown ups, where you could drink and have some fun. Everything was innocent enough and Asa e
xamined the menu with interest, choosing a steak and some baked potatoes. Gibson ordered the same and asked for a bottle of red wine.

  They ate in comfortable silence, until their hunger was subdued and they could enjoy some conversation. “You probably wonder about the town and its people?” Gibson started. “We are a rural country with too many ranchers and farmers who keep us close to the earth. Most of the people work on the farms and ranches in the outer lying area and keep to themselves. Ironically,” he laughed. “This is still a town, where everybody knows everybody.”

  “I noticed,” Asa commented. “You seem to have a lot of friends in here?”

  “I wouldn’t call them friends, mostly they are people I know. But, you are right, here it is difficult to stay hidden.”

  “I cannot say that I know the people here, but I am somewhat familiar with the area, because of my mother, who is from one of the Native American tribes in the area.” She told him.

  “Oh really, then you are almost family and should call me Todd,” the other agent laughed. “I used to spend a lot of time in the Salish reserve. I have a lot of friends there.”

  “My mother, Salish, taught me a lot about the Native American way of life and I suppose the Deputy Director sent me here because of my connection to the area.”

  “I am sure that it will help you, especially if you start interrogating people and driving around the country,” Todd smiled. “Look at him, for example,” he said and pointed at the man, sitting two tables away from them and eating a plate full of ribs. “He is the typical Montana loner – forty something, unmarried, closed in himself and completely uncaring about the people around him. You should be careful around people like him.”

  “Tell me, Todd,” Asa suddenly changed the subject. “Do you think that the agents are already dead?”

  Her serious tone surprised the man and he looked up at her, taking his time and drinking from his glass before answering. “Yes, I think that they are dead.” He said in the same serious tone of voice. “I already searched the area for them twice and although there is still the chance that we will find them alive, I doubt it greatly. There have been other similar cases in the area. Not with FBI agents, but with a cop, a bank manager and even a candidate for mayor. The three of them disappeared and were never found.”

  “All of them together?” Asa asked him, very much interested in the information.

  “No, and I am sure that their cases are completely unrelated,” the man shook his head. “I told you about them only to show you that we may never find them.”

  Asa shook her head in agreement and for a long minute thought about what he had said and about the way she was feeling after reading through the files. She looked back at the man and watched him eat in silence, completely ignoring all the other people in the bar. Asa wondered if she was going to become like him in a few years’ time, if she continued to say no to all the men, who expressed interest in her.

  “But, enough with the gloomy thoughts,” Todd suddenly said. “What do you do for fun in your big city?”

  Asa laughed at his comment and decided to give it a try. “What can I say? I like partying, going on hikes, but mostly I like drinking.”

  “Just the woman after my taste,” Todd joined her and laughed loudly. “What would you say about a drinking game?”

  “What is that?” Asa asked, already intrigued. “Tell me the rules?”

  “Let’s see. The rules are very simple, actually, you just need to drink more than me, in order to win.” He explained.

  “Oh, that sounds interesting. Where should we go for that kind of entertainment?”

  “Let’s move to the bar,” Todd stood up, after leaving a few banknotes on the table and finishing his glass of wine. “There is no better way to get to know a person, but to get him or her drunk and watch him or her make a fool of himself.”

  Asa laughed at his comment and thought that the man wasn’t as bad as she thought at the beginning. Todd Gibson was acting as an old friend right now and that worked to help her relax and enjoy herself. They walked together to the bar counter and sat at the only two free seats there.

  Todd ordered two beers and four shots of tequila and they started the crazy game with the mutual agreement that the last one standing was the winner. Asa was a heavy drinker, while Todd turned out to be a lightweight. She supposed that the man was well aware of the fact, but joined the game nevertheless, so that she could enjoy herself. After an hour, when it became obvious that Todd Gibson was ready to fall under the table, the young woman took his car keys, asked for his address and helped the man to his car.

  “You are a sloppy drunk, agent Gibson,” she told him, when the man was safely sitting in the front seat of his car and was ready to fall asleep. Asa had already asked for directions and was able to easily find his house, situated almost outside the town. Todd’s house wasn’t big, but Asa liked how it looked from the outside.

  Agent Clark carried him inside, opening the front door with the key she found in his pocket and tugging him towards the sofa. The man muttered something to himself and went back to sleep. The woman found a bucket and a glass of water for him. Placed them near the sofa and removed his shoes. About the rest, she hoped that agent Gibson would be able to take care of himself, when he woke in the morning.

  Chapter 6

  The next day, Todd Gibson woke up on the sofa, feeling shitty and hurting all over. The first movements felt like knives going through his head, but after he managed to drag himself to the bathroom, take a piss, and drink some water, Todd started feeling like a human being again. “Shit, shit, shit…” he continued to repeat, throughout the whole procedure and started to undress.

  The hot shower cleared his mind and reminded him that he needed to be at work in less than one hour, so he hurried to get dressed, made a strong coffee and walk outside the house. The car was parked in front of the house, instead in the garage, where he usually kept it, and that fact reminded the agent about the last night drinking contest and Asa Clark.

  “The bitch is really something,” Todd said to himself and climbed into the car, immediately putting on his sunglasses and switching on the car. Before going to the office, Todd stopped at his favorite dinner and bought a few croissants. Something he would not even dream about any other day of the week, but that way was special and the man just ignored the snickering remark of the girl behind the counter.

  Agent Todd Gibson was a 54 year old man, five foot eight high and a bit large in the waist. He liked his profession and tried hard to look the part, dressing in good quality suits and caring for his appearance. After graduating from the FBI Academy he had been transferred from one FBI office to the other for a number of years, but then, five years ago, he had been assigned to the Montana, Kalispell Field Office and with that, had finally found his place in the world.

  Gibson really liked the quiet and rural way of life in Montana and didn’t miss at all the life in the big cities. Lately, he was feeling tired and that made him look forward to his retirement. His way of life wasn’t helping with his health problems, the greasy fast food was the first in line. For him it had been always important to have a good job, to be respected and preferably to be in an authority position.

  So, agent Gibson was always eager to gain favor with the boss and that made him both a good agent and a crappy co-worker. The coming of Asa Clark in his office didn’t help his life at all, and Todd’s job was to make sure that she did a good job working the case. The young female agent had showed up to take charge of the biggest case that had come to the remote field office in Kalispell for the first time in five years. The man couldn’t help it but feel as if all that was just another feminist power grab handed down by the Deputy Director. Deep inside, he wanted to see her fail or at least give him a few reasons to point out her shortcomings to the Deputy Director Jennifer Shepherd.

  Gibson entered the FBI field office still extremely hung over and hating every minute of it. The place was packed with people at that hour of
the morning and the man thought that they have all made a pact to make his life difficult. Gibson shook his head at two of them, took a file from the secretary, raised his hand at another agent and hid behind his office door. They were going to have to wait for him to feel human again, before they threw anything else in his direction.

  Unfortunately for him, however, Agent Asa Clark had other ideas and before he had the time to sit down behind his desk, she was knocking at his door. “What?” Gibson shouted, almost throwing himself on the chair. “At least make an effort to look like you are suffering, Clark. Your happy face makes me want to throw up.”

  “I think that you threw up enough for a day, agent Gibson,” Clark laughed. “How do you feel this fine morning, agent?”

  “You make as much fun of me as you want, but don’t forget that throwing up, is a natural result of drinking,” he joined the laughter.

  “Okay,” Clark was back to business. “The police just informed us that they had found a vehicle nearby the Kootenai National Forest. It is Smith and Holliday’s car. They have it at the garage.”

  “Shit,” Gibson cursed soundly. “Now that is a bad news.”

  “Yeah, now our chances to find them alive are almost zero,” Clark agreed. “I am going to examine the car, are you coming?”

  Gibson shook his head and stood up, cursing when his head started swinging again. He drove Clark to the police garage, where the car had been stored. They had found the dumped car the previous day, but it had been identified only that morning. There was no sign of the two FBI agents, but Asa hoped to find some leads to what had happened to them in the car.

  The car showed no signs of an accident or of something violent that had happened inside of it. That was both good and bad for them, but the agents didn’t make assumptions and started to work. Asa took a pair of gloves and started the examination of the car. She worked methodically, took prints of the tire treads, lifted fingerprints from various locations inside the car, took fabric samples from the seats, and a few hairs from the seats.