Tripwire
Copyright© 2021 by UtIdArWa
Chapter 11
As we walked out of the Paul’s office, I saw that Suzy had Jim up on Gunnar, and it looked like she was giving him a riding lesson. As we approached, I called out, “You about ready for lunch?”
Suzy glanced over her shoulder and grinned. “As soon as I heard that Chet had chicken fried steak as the special, I ordered three plates. Lance, Brian, You guys order what you want. Everything is pretty good at Mable’s. It isn’t 5 star, but solid, stick to your ribs, diner food. One word of warning though, Mable doesn’t have, and will not tolerate, tofu or any bogus beef burgers. She is a carnivore and proud of it.”
We waited while Jim stripped the saddle and tack off of Guunar. While we stood there, Summerfield came stomping up. When he got close, he yelled out, “HEY, KIDMAN.”
It was obvious to everyone that he was trying to identify Jim. It was a lucky thing that Jim was absorbed in figuring out the intricacies of a saddle, bit, and reins. He may have heard his name yelled, but he stayed focused on the job he was doing. After He slipped the bit from Guunar’s mouth, that’s when he turned around to see what was going on.
By this time, Summerfield was at the fence and was gripping the top rail. Meanwhile, a pissed-off Suzy had spun around and was coming towards him. “Just who the hell do you think you are, idiot? If you had spooked that horse right then, he could have done serious harm to that kid. I think I ought to stomp the snot out of you just to show you what it feels like.”
Summerfield stood there with his mouth open, just staring at Suzy. She glared at him for a second longer. Then spit on the ground in front of him and stomped back over to Jim, yelling as she went, “You take that bridle back over with the others and follow me to the diner. I think our lessons are finished for today.” Then she spun back around, hands on her hips, and yelled at Summerfield, “If that’s alright with you, jerk?”
I tried not to laugh, really, I did, but a snicker did escape. Fortunately, Summerfield didn’t hear. Rather than head for Mable’s, Summerfield and his team headed back to Paul’s office.
By the time I got inside, Mable was on the phone and telling whoever that, “No, we don’t have anything vegan. About the closest I’ve got is some premade store-bought salads.”
After she hung up, she told Joey Curtis, who was pulling the lunch shift as busboy. “Joey, Grab 5 of those packaged chef’s salads. Scrape the meat and eggs off and run them over to Paul’s office. Some high falutin’ big wigs want the vegan special.” This started a general round of laughter in the diner. Most everybody knew about Mable and vegan.
It was during lunch that I introduced Jim to Lance and Brian. Lance was astounded, but Brian chuckled and said. “I had a feeling this was the guy.” He shook hands with Jim. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Corporal. I hope we can talk more in the future.”
Suzy had been listening to Brian and Jim. “Agent Johnson is there any way you can release Jim’s credit card. It seems that the missing person’s report from Oregon might have frozen his accounts.”
“It doesn’t surprise me, Ms. Williams. When Jim joined the Marines, He received a substantial enlistment bonus. He put this money into an investment account that his mother was running for him. She was one of the smarter day traders. Pretty good at it too. He also had a majority of his pay deposited. After he was hurt and was being shipped back to the states, Jim’s mother transferred ownership of the house into Jim’s name. She also transferred her late husband’s insurance payoff and retirement. She also transferred the majority of her retirement and all of her investments to Jim. His bank account is well over 2 million dollars. It was when unauthorized people attempted to access his money, that got the Treasury Department involved. His mother had left a message with her lawyer about her suspicions around Jim and his money. They called the FBI for assistance in the investigation. I was the closest agent available and was sent here to interview Mr. Kidman.”
As we were finishing lunch, Summerfield came storming into the diner. He immediately stomped over to Mable and demanded to speak to the manager. Mable stood there, a full coffee pot in one hand and two heavy ceramic mugs in the other.
“I’m the manager loud mouth. Manager, waitress, owner, and customer relations liaison to rude flat-landers like you that interrupt my customers dining comfort. Now that I’ve told you who I am, Who the bloody hell are you?”
“I’ll have you know that I am DHS Administrative Agent Summerfield. I want to know why when we ordered a meal to be delivered, a vegan meal, you had chef salads delivered.”
“What you worried about? We scraped the meat and eggs off. Wasn’t nothing but veggies left.”
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