They were almost four hours into their six hour journey; Mitch was staring out the window thinking, Nick was driving and Samantha was asleep when Ellen cried out.
“Mitch!”
He wheeled around. “What, what’s wrong?”
“Oh my God, Nick pull over quickly,” she said.
Nick pulled the car to the side of the road and Ellen jumped out. Mitch followed. She went to the car trunk, grabbed one of her folders and began shuffling through papers, handing wads of paper to Mitch to hold while she did so.
“Found it!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe it.”
Nick and Samantha joined them at the back of the car.
“Remember I said to you that Dylan Ting looked familiar to me?” Ellen said to Mitch. “When I first met him down in Marcus’s area, I asked him if we had gone to the same college or school.”
Mitch nodded, willing her to continue.
“He did look familiar to me.” She gave a photo to Mitch. “These are the shots Amy blew up from the CCTV footage. There was someone in the car when William Ying got in it at the photo gallery exhibition. It was a fuzzy shot but Amy and I thought that might have been Rodney Lam, the person we can’t find, whose address was a vacant block of land.”
Mitch looked at the photo. His eyes narrowed as he squinted at the figure in the backseat and then widened in surprise.
“Holy crap,” he said handing the photo to Nick.
“Precisely,” Ellen agreed.
Mitch rang John. “John, you need to put Dylan Ting in high security; Ellie’s just discovered that Dylan Ting is Rodney Lam who went missing when William did. I want to talk to him as soon as we get back. Don’t buy the insane act, he knows exactly what he is doing.”
Mitch took over the driving, his mind racing through the scenarios. He rang Amy Callaghan.
“Amy, I’ve got you on loud speaker,” he warned her straight off. “I know you did some research on Rodney Lam for Ellie, but can you go back further than his university years? Find his family, where he went to school, anything you can?”
“Done,” she confirmed.
“Thanks, and if you find anything, can you call me back on this line?”
“Will do.”
Mitch hung up.
Nick turned to look at him. “Mitch …”
“Yeah?” Mitch glanced his way before returning his eyes to the road.
“I just thought of something since we’re having a day of epiphanies.”
“I’m not sure I’m up for another one … what the heck, go ahead,” Mitch said.
“I think I know where the two bodies are … the Villiers, that couple who were onboard the boat Ru and Dylan took over.”
“Where?” Mitch prompted him.
“I could be completely wrong of course,” Nick said.
“Where?”
I remember walking over a plank on the boat that was a bit loose.”
“Under the floorboards on board?” Mitch exclaimed.
“Just a thought; there were two people before the storm, and after the storm, there wasn’t. So they’ve either been washed overboard or if those were shots, pushed overboard or ‘stored’ perhaps,” Nick said.
Mitch nodded. He rang John hands free.
“This is why I should drive,” Nick said, “you’re always on the phone.”
“Mitch?” John answered.
“John, you’re on loud speaker. Nick might have discovered where the bodies of the Villiers are and if so, they’re still on the boat. We’re near Richmond, any chance there’s a chopper heading back to Cape Hatteras that could take Nick and Ellen?”
“Mitch, you have no budget left …” John began.
“Your shout then? C’mon, John …”
“Seriously Mitch, when are you starting that finance course? I’ll see what I can do. There’s an emergency-only helipad at the Ocracoke Airport … but I suppose a double murder might count.” John hung up.
“Pretty please,” Ellen said. “A four hour drive back versus what … about ninety minutes in a chopper? No comparison.”
“And no more tapping, phone calls, window down, window up, tapping again … gee I’ll miss that,” Nick added.
Dylan Ting was transferred to a high security wing in the same complex. John Windsor looked through the glass panel and watched him. Dylan was sitting in the corner, staring up at the window that was too high to see out of at ground level. He didn’t move; no sign of delirium or panic, he sat perfectly still.
John Windsor entered the room and Dylan Ting turned to look at him. He was about to rise and John indicated for him to stay where he was.
“Dylan, let’s drop the madness act, shall we? I assume you’ve been read your rights?”
“I have a contract with orders; I did what was expected of me in those orders, so why are you holding me here?” His voice had a hysterical twinge.
“Mitchell will be back in a few hours and will come and speak with you then. I just wanted you to know that I am aware you are being held here and I’ve authorized it,” John said.
“But you can’t. This is why I wanted my orders in writing, you can’t …”
John departed the room.
Mitch and Samantha drove away leaving Nick and Ellen at the HeloAir headquarters in Richmond, ready to board a chopper for Ocracoke Airport. They still had two hours’ drive ahead of them and neither was looking forward to being together. After ten minutes of silence where Mitch silently prayed his phone would ring, Samantha cut to the chase.
“Mitch, how are you feeling now?”
“Good,” he answered automatically.
“Uh huh.” She rolled her eyes. “How are you feeling mentally, emotionally and physically?”
“All three?” he protested.
“We have two hours. Can’t we talk about this?” Samantha asked.
Mitch sighed. “Why don’t you start, tell me how you feel three ways and I’ll do my best to follow suit, despite all my shortcomings in that area,” he said.
Samantha turned to look at him. “Why would you say that?”
“Just the general female consensus I’ve heard of late.” He shrugged. “So?”
“OK,” Samantha began. “Mentally …”
Mitch interrupted her. “Sam, in the interests of this discussion which we knew we couldn’t avoid, let’s at least both say what we mean.”
She nodded. “Mentally, I feel like I don’t get enough challenges. I feel like you give Ellen meatier work than me and I don’t feel like you encourage initiative.”
Mitch took it on the chin.
“So you know the role is largely research, surveillance and then bringing it home,” he summed it up. “What mental challenges do you want?”
“I want to be given the chance to run with something like Ellen did several times during this investigation, when you got her to step up.”
“Of course, but she’s second-in-charge; if I’m out of action, that’s her job. You’ll earn that eventually. I didn’t come straight into this role. I followed orders in the air force and worked my way up and I did the same in the FBI, following orders until John recruited me to lead the team. You’re pretty wet behind the ears.”
She looked straight ahead.
“I’ll give you an example,” Mitch said. “If you were in charge when I was tied up in the VIP house and you came downstairs to rescue me, what would you have done first?”
“Checked you were still alive, untied you, got medical assistance …” she said.
“And while I appreciate that, it’s not the right thing to do unless I am on fire, or obviously going to die immediately if you don’t attend to me. Ellen followed protocol. She entered the room weapon at the ready, checked it was safe for herself, me and for you and Nick and then when she confirmed the men were secure and the area was clear, she approached me. If she had come straight to me and there was someone still in the room, she could have been knocked out and then I’m still in danger, not to mention you and Nick. This is the stuff you should know or be watching and learning. I know you passed your training, but you’re not applying it, you’ve forgotten it or you’re out of practice,” he said. “Emotionally?”
Samantha looked out the window and avoided eye contact.
“I’m so, so sorry that you are in pain because of me. I feel so guilty and if I could take some of the pain off you, you know I would in heartbeat.” She turned back to him.
Mitch nodded. “I wish you could too,” he teased her and Samantha smiled.
“I am sorry, Mitch, I’ve been sick to the stomach since it happened and seeing you limp around and looking pale and shaky, it’s been so awful. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, stop making yourself sick about it, clearly I’m OK … or I will be now we’re back on land. Physically?” he continued.
Samantha exhaled. “I’m feeling fit, fittest I’ve ever been and in that category, I’m feeling good. Sorry, I know you’re not.”
Mitch nodded. “It’ll pass.”
“Now you have to share and be totally honest, Mitch.”
“Right.” Mitch’s phone rang to his relief. “John, you’re on speaker.”
“Where are you?” John asked.
“Just dropped Ellie and Nick off to wait for the chopper and Sam and I are heading back. Have you seen Dylan?”
“Yes, I just visited him and told him to expect you in a couple of hours. He’s dropped the mad act and he’s clinging onto his written orders.”
“Mm, I knew that was coming.”
“Nothing else?” John asked.
“Not yet. And you?” Mitch asked hopefully.
“Nope. All right, see you soon.” John hung up.
Mitch took a deep breath, ready to continue his discussion with Samantha.
Nick and Ellen landed and went straight from the chopper pad at Ocracoke Airport to the boat hire and sped out towards the motor yacht formerly inhabited by Dylan Ting and Pan Ru.
They turned off the engine and drifted in beside it. Nick reached over and secured their boat to the railing of the floating yacht. Ellen grabbed her weapon and boarded the boat, going through the process again of ensuring it was clear. When they were satisfied they were alone, Nick went below deck to where he had felt the loose timber board, and Ellen followed. He tapped on it; it was still springy. He pried it up.
“Oh no.” Ellen looked away.
Nick reeled back. “God, how many dead bodies do I have to see this week?”
Ellen returned her gaze to the two bodies: a mature couple, the Villiers, who had met their death in an untimely manner. Both had a single gunshot wound to the forehead.
Nick returned to deck and sat on a bench and exhaled. He pulled his shirt up and wiped his face. Ellen moved beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder.
“I was hoping you were wrong,” she said.
“Me too,” he said. “I’ve seen eight dead people this week; that must be a record. You know I wouldn’t mind so much if they were all crims, but those two …” he thought about the couple, “… this is probably their dream. I know it’s my dad’s to retire and sail away. And those four cops too.” He shook his head.
Ellen squeezed his shoulder.
“I’ll call Mitch,” she said. “Why don’t you get back in our boat? There’s nothing more to be done here.”