Pop Travel Page 9

  “Well. I believe my brother might be missing.”

  “That’s terrible! Did you try the police?”

  “Yes. They were no help. They just filed a missing persons report along with all the other, more important unsolved missing persons cases.”

  “Oh.” Miki nodded.

  “I’ve decided to do some searching for myself.”

  “Of course. Are you all from around here? You don’t look familiar.”

  “No. We’re from Tennessee. My brother popped to Atlanta for a business meeting. A few days later, his office called me looking for him. They said he never made it. I had his bank cards traced and they said he last used one at the deli down the street from here. When I asked there, they didn’t remember him. I have no idea why he would have come out this way, but I thought the local private investigator might be able to help. I’m worried something might have happened to him.”

  Miki nodded again and thought a moment, putting her junior sleuth skills to the test.

  “Well, we don’t see very many strangers in town. You are actually the second one this week. That’s a record!” She raised her eyebrows. “I wonder if our other visitor was your brother. Is he younger and shorter than you?” she asked, describing Cooper’s crazy client to him.

  “Why, yes,” he replied and smiled.

  “Well, he was here.” Her tone brightened at his positive response. When Jared sat up and paused his tunes, he lifted his chin to her like he wanted to say something. She narrowed her eyes at him, to keep him quiet. She could handle this and didn’t need him butting in.

  “Something isn’t right,” Jared muttered. He shrugged and slunk back down on the couch. Good.

  “Huh. I wonder why. Do you know what he wanted?” the man said.

  “Well, he called on Monday and Cooper met with him. The next day, he came in acting very, uh, worried. You know, jittery, with his eyes darting around. Just weird, no offense. But Cooper wasn’t here so he left a message.”

  “What did it say?”

  “Here. I’ll shoot it to you,” she offered with a smile, pleased she could be so useful in helping the poor man find his brother. Jared sat up again and opened his mouth to say something. Miki gave him another piercing glare, so he closed his mouth and kept it to himself.

  Miki sent the message to the man’s QV. He read it to himself and his smile grew wider.

  “Thank you, miss. You’ve been very helpful.” He turned to walk out and read the message again, chuckling to himself.

  Miki beamed with pride at Jared for sending the man away in such high spirits. Ha!

  “So do you know where he is?” she called to him. “Do you want me to leave Cooper a message?”

  He turned back and smiled at her. “No. That won’t be necessary. This tells me all I need to know. Thanks again.”

  “Oh. Okay, then. Glad to help,” she said, her voice extra chipper.

  Jared looked at her and shook his head as the man left.

  “That was weird.”

  “I know. Right?” Miki agreed. “I wonder what it was all about.”

  “Who cares? Let’s lock the door.” Jared put on his devilish grin and stood up.

  “Wait! I need to tell Cooper about this.” She held up her hand to halt him as she called Cooper on her CC imager.

  “Of course.” He frowned. Shot down again, he plopped himself back on the couch.

  Miki smiled at him sympathetically as she waited for Cooper to answer. Jared had been a very good boy.

  “Hey, Coop.” Miki sighed, relieved he answered.

  “Hey, Miki. What’s up?”

  “Remember that mystery guy you met on Monday? Well, his brother just came in looking for him and said he was reported missing. The guy said he tried the cops and they wouldn’t help him. He got his brother’s bank card and traced it to Joe’s.”

  “Hmm. Did he give you his name? Or a number?”

  “No. He was in and out so fast I didn’t get a chance,” she answered, her excitement at doing good knocked down a bit. She kicked herself now for not even asking his name. Some detective she was. Then she sucked up some courage to squeak out the rest. “I told him about the message he left you and the guy figured out what he wanted and took off.”

  She squinted, prepared for a reprimand.

  “I see. Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

  That’s it? “Should I try to find him?” She hated screwing up and disappointing her boss. She felt like an idiot.

  “No, no. Don’t worry about it. In fact, you can go ahead and go home. Take a long weekend and enjoy your sister’s wedding. I’m stuck down here for a while and I might not make it back in time.”

  “Really? You sure everything is okay?”

  “Of course. Don’t worry about it.” Cooper sounded strangely upbeat. Odd, especially after what she just told him.

  “Okay, then. Have a nice weekend,” she said and they disconnected. She turned to Jared, her face scrunched in puzzlement. “He gave me the rest of the week off.”

  “Massive! Let’s go!” He hopped up.

  “I don’t know, he was so happy. It wasn’t like him.”

  “Maybe he got lucky.”

  One-track mind!

  “Hold on, Romeo. Let me check just one more thing before I leave.” She turned back to her imager. Jared stepped up behind her and watched over her shoulder. Plugging in the description of the mystery guy from Monday, she did a quick face match, using a site Cooper had shown her. The program gave her a few people to choose from and she picked him out, identifying him as Jonathan Phisner.

  Next, she did a search on Mr. Phisner and the article about his tragic accident came up. She and Jared both read the article. Jared slowly pushed back his hood. Miki covered her mouth in shock. Unbelievable. Could it just be a coincidence? Surely.

  Miki looked at Jared. “Should I call Cooper back?” she asked and her imager went blank.

  The door opened and the stranger came back in, pointing a small electrogun at them. “You should have gone home when you had the chance.”

  Atlanta, GA

  1:15 p.m., Thursday, July 25

  Cooper didn’t like the sound of Miki’s encounter. He didn’t want to worry her with the news of Jonathan’s death, not to mention that a brother would have been notified, if he had one. With the stranger gone and her not knowing anything, she should be fine. He worried about her anyway and would check on her later.

  He brought his coffee over to sit down with Geri at a table in the library café.

  “Sorry about that. My assistant had a question.”

  “Don’t you worry about it, J.L. By the way, what business are you in?” Geri asked.

  “I’m a freelance lawyer.” That was mostly true, at one point.

  “How interestin’. Sounds like you get to do some travelling. Are you all based here in Atlanta?”

  “No, I’m here for a client.”

  “Does your client own a plantation? Is that why you were researchin’ them?”

  “Oh, no. This is purely recreational.” He took a sip from his piping hot coffee. There was nothing to this lying business. No harm, since he’d probably never see her again, though it would be nice if he could.

  “How wonderful! So what would you like to know, J.L.?” Geri gave him a warm smile. She seemed genuinely delighted to talk with him about plantations.

  “Well, it’s sort of a long story. In college, I wanted to study architecture, but I realized it wouldn’t be very lucrative, so I turned to law. I still enjoy studying structural designs, especially early American.” Some of that rang true. He had wanted to be an architect, but his father helped him change his mind. He didn’t know which was worse, full-on lies or partial truths.

  “Oh my. The mesmerizin’ style of those beautiful old homes is fascinatin’ to me, too. I love to look at them but I don’t know all the technical architectural terminology. I know more about the history. Do you think I could still help?”

  “Yes,
actually. When I began looking at some of the plantation homes, I found them full of intriguing mysteries, like hauntings and secret passageways. As a kid, I visited the pirate tunnels in Savannah. While I’m in town, I plan to take a tour of some local plantations, when I find some time. Since you are a plantation buff, I wondered if you might be able to recommend a few worth my while. Maybe some with interesting stories behind them.”

  “Now, that, I believe I could do. In fact, my great-granddaddy’s home had a secret tunnel that ran from the wine cellar to a gazebo in the garden. It was built durin’ the Civil War. They constructed it so the family could escape Yankee invaders.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Is your grandda… I mean, grandfather’s plantation close?”

  “I’m afraid not. It’s down toward the southern border, just this side of Florida. Have you ever toured a plantation, J.L.?”

  “Just the Antebellum at Stone Mountain, several years ago. It’s a nice re-creation, but the buildings were all transported. I also toured the Archibald Smith Plantation Home in Roswell.”

  “Yes, those are well-traveled. A ghost would be spooked away by all the tourists, I’d wager. I would have to say the best place to find the most haunted plantations would likely be Louisiana. But Georgia has her fair share. There’s the Early Hill Plantation in Greensboro, and in Lawrenceville there’s a restaurant that was converted from a plantation home. Both of those have frequent apparitional sightings.”

  “What about Beasley Hills?”

  “Beasley Hills? Why that’s where the Creator lives! No ghosts there. The main house was completely redone inside. It—”

  Before she could say any more, Cooper’s QV buzzed. He looked at it. Dawson again.

  “Oh, I need to take this. Could you excuse me for a moment?”

  “Of course.” She gave him a pleasant smile and sipped her coffee.

  He smiled back and held up a finger for her to wait as he walked away to a corner for some privacy.

  “Hey, Dawson,” he answered softly.

  “What’s up, Coop? Where are you now?”

  “I’m at the library.”

  “What? Did you say library? You sure get around. I’d ask why you’re there, but I don’t have time. I just wanted to let you know I got you a ticket for the big birthday bash.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where are you staying?” Dawson asked, then gave a wince like he had before.

  “I haven’t decided yet. Is something wrong?”

  “I see. Planning ahead. No, it’s nothing. Just a nagging headache. I skipped breakfast, probably just hungry.” He waved it off.

  Cooper could see his pain despite the smile he put on for him.

  “Anyway, I’ll have an aide make arrangements for you and buzz you the info and the ticket. You know you will have to pop to get there,” Dawson added.

  “Yeah. I know,” he said in a dour tone. That was Dawson’s second headache in only a few hours. Cooper needed to talk to that Creator kid!

  “Ah, don’t sweat it. You’ll be fine. I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

  “Okay. Thanks again, Dawson. Hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”

  “No problem. Now you owe me.”

  “Add it to the list. Take care of yourself,” he said, and they disconnected.

  As he walked back over to the table, he caught a whiff of himself and cringed. He had forgotten about having on the same dirty clothes as yesterday. Nice first impression. Not much he could do about it now, and he reminded himself he’d probably never see Miss Harper again anyway. He shrugged and sat down, wearing an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry about that. My brother.”

  She grinned, lighting up his mood and squashing it at the same time. Damn responsibilities.

  “Of course. So, where were we?”

  “Beasley Hills.”

  “Oh, yes! It’s gorgeous. I toured it as a little girl. Before it was his compound.” She gave an exaggerated eye roll.

  “How did the Creator come to get it? You’d think he’d want something more modern.”

  “Apparently he wanted to live in the South in mild-climate seclusion, with lots of room for an extensive playground. The plantation sat on the market awhile and fit the bill. But when he made his intentions known, the Historic Society stepped in and protested. He agreed to keep the appearance of the grounds true to the original layout and rebuilt the house and all surrounding structures on the same footprints, leaving a couple untouched. The outside looks as glorious as it did in the nineteenth century, when it was first built.”

  “So no interesting ghost sightings or stories there?”

  “I seem to recall the original building had a secret staircase and space between some of its walls for people to spy through peepholes. I hear tell one of the old Beasleys died in those walls and used to haunt it.”

  “Now that would be a good tour.”

  “Yes, but since the renovation and several years’ time, the ghost sightings were demolished along with the old manor home. And it is strictly off limits to the general public, anyway.” She paused and took another sip of her latte. A mischievous gleam shone from her eyes when she continued. “Have you heard about the laser fencing?”

  “Yes, but I thought it was just hype.” Cooper would never have found such great insight without digging for days. He hung on her every word, leaning in to listen. Her details were much more valuable than anything he could have found in a book. What a lucky break to bump into her.

  “I would choose to believe it. I haven’t seen them myself, but I’ve heard there are two sets. One along the property lines and another surrounding the house. They definitely discourage unexpected visitors. Tour groups visit the plantation but must keep their distance from the house. It’s completely modernized on the inside now, anyway.”

  “You don’t say. Huh. That’s too bad. I really would’ve liked to see it.” He shook his head.

  “It is too bad,” she agreed and took another dainty sip.

  Sitting and talking with Geri reminded him how invigorating it felt to make a new connection with someone. Her kindness and helpful information made him wish he could stay and get to know her. She stirred up feelings he thought had died. Maybe he would call her, once everything settled down again. If he was still around. His true luck would be the unhappy ending he foresaw.

  His cynicism brought him back to reality. He needed to make preparations and figure out a plan for what to do at the party. He had to get moving. Walking around the grounds would be dangerous, with the tight security and lasers. Thinking ahead, he wanted to find a way to see the Creator one on one, away from the festivities. Time to bid farewell to his new acquaintance.

  “Well, thank you for talking with me, Miss Harper. I have a meeting coming up, so I will have to be going.” Now that he had gotten to know her a little, it pained him to lie to her.

  “That’s quite all right. The pleasure was mine. I enjoyed this entertaining diversion. I could talk about the Old South and plantations all the livelong day. You can call me if you’d like to discuss anything further. And thank you for the coffee, J.L. It was very nice meetin’ you.”

  They exchanged numbers, and he offered her a hand to help her up. Her ladylike character was rubbing off on him, making him act more like a gentleman. Savoring her delicate touch, he held on a few extra seconds.

  “It was nice meeting you too, Geri. Thanks again.”

  “You are quite welcome, J.L. Good luck in your endeavors. Bye, now.” She gathered her things and with a little wave, she left.

  Cooper’s eyes lingered on her figure as she sauntered away.

  Turning back to wave again, she caught him staring.

  He blushed and gave her a sheepish grin.

  When she left the building, he picked up his books and went back into the library, reviewing what she told him about secret passageways and tunnels. Their talk gave him hope of finding a hidden room or remote building where he could corner t
he Creator.

  The name of the last book in the stack, Great Escapes of the Underground Railroad, had a full chapter dedicated to the Beasley Hills Plantation. Searching through the chapter, his face lit up as he found what he wanted and paid the librarian for a hard copy of the page for a “souvenir.”

  PTI Corporate Offices, Atlanta, GA

  3:00 p.m., Thursday, July 25

  ay Saffioti stared out his window wall at the bustling city below, absentmindedly grinding his teeth and ignoring the report on the plate in his hand. To take his mind off the problem of the investigator, he had futilely tried to get some work done. He wanted to trust the FBI, but knew they could turn on him at any moment. If this detective guy had evidence of their problem and it got out, Ray’s life would be over, and pop travel would be history.

  He ground his teeth so much, he felt a crown loosen, stabbing him in the gums. That did it. He couldn’t take the erosion of his nerves any longer and called his own meeting. He needed to get advice and assurance from his two co-conspirators.

  After making the arrangements, he covered his web cam and scanned the room for bugs. Working with the FBI made him self-conscious. Especially after watching that investigator’s every move in Ed’s office. No one was out of their scope.

  Charles Maynard, his Senior VP, arrived first. As soon as the door closed, Ray told him about Cooper.

  “It sounds like the FBI is handling it. There’s no need to worry, Ray. Right?” The darker-skinned, thick-framed man twirled the gold ring on his pinky finger and frowned. He stood in his usual spot by the wet bar, eyeing the crystal decanters, and licked his lips. Ray gave him a sympathetic look, remembering the old days when Charles had been a strong, levelheaded leader. Now a ball of nerves, Charles found his strength from brown liquid or green pills. The stresses of their instant success and now their looming failure had broken Charles’ composure.

  Just as Ray opened his mouth, Vivienne stormed in and slammed the door.

  “Ray, you have got to keep it together! You were pathetic in that meeting with Ed!”