Land Sakes (31 page)

As we drew nearer, I could see it was a marina with all kinds of small and big craft anchored there. Daisy cut the motor to a slower speed and let the boat cruise the rest of the way. A bunch of people were on a pier. One man was standing on his houseboat fixing something. I was happy we had escaped, but meeting people, as bedraggled as we were, was something I could do without.

Daisy steered the boat toward an empty slip, then cut the engine to an idle. On the dock several men stood watching. Like a pro, she eased our boat into place slick as a whistle. I climbed out to get it hitched up, and a couple of the men came to help me. “Looks like you been on the water for some time,” one of them said. “You weren't lost, were you?”

I didn't answer him. “Sir, will you help me get Mrs. Winchester out of the boat?”

“Winchester? You mean—”

“That's right. We been kidnapped.”

“Hey!” he yelled. “It's Mrs. Winchester!”

Boy, did them men hop to it! The people piled off that pier like a bunch of grackles swooping down. “Just help Mrs. Winchester,” I said.

Three or four men practically lifted Winnie out of the boat and carried her onto level land. They set her down, one shoe on and one shoe off and her clutching my pocketbook so full of water that the water was pouring out. That bottomless pit would never be the same, but I took it out of her hands, hoping that later I could salvage something out of it. I told a man in a mackinaw, “We need to get to the police station.”

“Of course! Of course! I'll take you there,” he said. “No, we'd ruin your car; our clothes are sopping wet. Just tell us where we can get a bus or a cab.”

“No, lady! My truck's parked right up there next the light pole. You're coming with me.” The people were pressing in from all sides, anxious to see or help us, but they were too nice or too dumbfounded to ask questions. “Now get outta my way, folks,” he said.

People wouldn't let go of us—escorted us all the way to the truck and, anxious to help, offered to take one or two of us in their cars because the truck had only a narrow space for a backseat. “No,” I said, “we'll stay together.” Daisy and I crawled in the back, then several men practically picked up Winnie and put her in the front seat.

No sooner were we inside and the doors shut than our knight in shining armor told us, “My name is George. Call me George.” With the motor running, he dialed his phone. “I'm calling the chief,” he said.

While he was talking on the phone, he eased his way through the gawking crowd then turned the truck onto the road. I thought we were in the clear and on our way until I glanced out the back window. “Daisy, look at that—they're all following us.” It looked like every vehicle in that parking lot had pulled out behind us.

George finished talking and hung up the phone. “Ladies, the chief says you got company down at the station.”

“Who could that be?” I wondered.

“Reporters, photographers, you name it! You ladies have been on TV and in every newspaper in the country—around the world, in fact. Last night, my wife sat up until 3:00 in the morning watching the news on TV, hoping they'd find you.”

That's all we needed—a bunch of reporters. I leaned over to the front seat. “Well, Winnie, you always wanted to be kidnapped. How did you like it?”

She shuddered. “Like it? I was terrified! I must have been out of my mind ever to imagine it would be fun.”

I laughed. “It's over now, and you can enjoy all the attention we'll be getting.”

“Attention? Looking like this? Esmeralda, can't you do something about avoiding those reporters?”

“Winnie, I don't know that I can.”

“Hey, lookee there!” George exclaimed. We were coming up on a patrol car catty-cornered across the street. “They got the streets blocked off both ways!” He rolled down the window and hollered to a police officer. “Let us through, buster. I got Mrs. Winchester and two other women in here.”

I didn't like the looks of what lay ahead—a bunch of
people waiting with microphones and cameras. “George, is there any way you could get us inside without getting mobbed?”

“I sure can,” he said and gunned it. That truck sped forward and took a fast left turn on a service road that took us around in back. Before the crowd realized where we were headed, we had stopped. George hopped out, ran around to open the door for Winnie, helped her out, and ushered her toward the back door of the station as Daisy and I crawled out. We had to run—the press people were hotfooting it around the corner of the building. The man holding the door open for us looked like the chief of police. We three had just got inside and shut the door when we heard the chief telling the reporters, “That's all for now, folks. There'll be a news conference later.”

George had come inside and was still holding onto Winnie's arm when the chief came in again. “Thanks, George,” he said. “Thanks for bringing them in, but I'll handle it from here.”

George was reluctant to leave. The chief thumbed toward the door. George looked at the three of us. “Ladies, if there's anything I can do for you, you just give me a call. Chief knows my number.” With that he left, and the chief shut the door behind him.

“Now, ladies, if you will come in my office, the FBI is on their way to interview you. In the meantime, I can bring you up to date on how matters stand at the moment. But first,” he opened an office door, “there's someone here waiting to see you.”

I couldn't believe my eyes—it was Percival!

32

Both of us, Winnie and me, burst into tears, grabbed Percival, and hugged him for dear life. It's a wonder we didn't break him in two the way we were squeezing him. “Winnie, we better let go, we're getting him all wet.”

We both let go of him, but Percival put his arm around Winnie, and she leaned against his shoulder. “Oh, Percival,” she cried, “I was never so glad to see anybody in my whole life!”

“The feeling is mutual,” he said, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

“Percival,” I said, “this is Daisy LeGrande. She rescued us. When there's more time, we'll tell you the whole story, but right now we want to hear about you. When did you come up here?”

“As soon as I heard you were missing. I chartered one of those small planes and flew out as soon as I could, but by the time I got here, it was dark, and the search for your bodies had been called off. I checked by the police station, but they didn't know anything more than I had
already heard on the news. I rented a jeep, took a room in a motel, and kept the radio on all night, but it was not until the next morning while I was shaving that they broadcast about the ransom. It was then I knew you'd been abducted, and, bad as that was, at least it meant you were alive.

“I jumped in that jeep and rode all over the place asking questions, hoping to find an eyewitness. But, tell me, who kidnapped you—do you know who they are? Where'd they keep you?”

“It's a long story, Percival,” I told him, “but right now we need to get out of these wet clothes and get cleaned up before we can face those law enforcement people.”

“Okay,” he said, “I'll call the motel where I'm staying.” He picked up the phone and made the reservations for the “Smith sisters, Mary, Martha, and Magdalene.”

We got a laugh out of that. He had the presence of mind not to give our real names, but that's Percival for you—always on top of things.

“This place is nice, the Country Lane Inn,” he said, “but not the exceptional accommodations you're accustomed to. For that reason, reporters won't look for you there. You should be safe from the press, at least for a little while. Nice restaurant, room service, and it's near the airport.”

“Let's go,” I said.

“Okay. I'll drive you there. And, Esmeralda—” He handed me a pad to write on and a pen, “on the way, write down the sizes you ladies wear and I'll see what clothes I can find. In the meantime, I'll ask the man at the desk if he can't send up some bathrobes.”

He turned to Winnie. “Mrs. Win
chus
ter, about your luggage. What shall I tell the
Amsterdam?”

“Where is the
Amsterdam?”

“After Glacier Bay it was scheduled to visit Sitka.”

“Well, Percival, I don't know what to say. We want to get out of here as soon as we can, but we don't know how long the authorities will keep us.”

“I hope we can get out of here tomorrow or the next day. What would you think of asking the purser to hold the luggage until the ship gets back to Vancouver and then deliver it to the Wedgewood?”

Winnie agreed to the idea. I wasn't so sure. I thought we might be in Juneau much longer than that, but I didn't say anything.

As we came out of that little office, Percival told the receptionist where we would be staying and the phony names we would be registered under. She looked startled. “You're not
leaving
? Chief Kline wants to question the victims, and we expect the Alaska Bureau of Investigation momentarily.”

Percival answered for us. “Tell the chief these ladies will be available as soon as possible but that right now they need to get cleaned up and have a hot meal.”

The chief must have overheard because he came out of his office right away. “Now, see here—the ABI is on its way... Oh, that's right, you do need to get cleaned up. Did I hear you say they'll be staying at the Country Lane Inn? Well, okay, but ladies, once you get there, stay put. Patrolman Norton here will drive you there.”

“Chief,” Percival said, “don't you think it might be better if I take them? If they go in a patrol car they'll be
spotted right away, and the newspeople will pose problems we don't need right now.”

“You got something there. Okay. Let's see, the press is swarming all over in back. Where you parked?”

“In front.”

“Good. Now, ladies, once you are safely inside the Country Lane Inn, do not show your faces outside your rooms. We don't know where your abductors are nor what intentions they might have. In a little while, I'll drop by and have each of you give me a statement. The ABI will also come to where you are for their interview. In the meantime my officers will keep the motel under twenty-four-hour surveillance.

“Now, ladies, if you should need anything, give me a call. My entire force is on the alert ready to respond at a moment's notice.”

He rubbed his chin, thinking. “Now, let's see... Tell you what. I'll send Norton out back to tell the press I'm on my way to hold the news conference. That'll hold them there while you people go out the front door, give you time to get away.

“Norton, you follow the jeep in the patrol car, make sure they get where they're going without any interference.”

Chief Kline led us through the office and held the front door open for us. Daisy and I ran to the jeep while Percival brought Winnie.

On the way to the inn, we traveled the Glacier Highway, retracing the route George had brought us from Auke Bay. The patrol car was following us but lagged behind a few vehicles that came between us.

When we arrived at the motel, we were still pretty
much wet to the skin. Percival asked us to wait in the jeep until he was sure the coast was clear. He jumped out and ran inside.

A plane was zooming over our heads, aiming to land. After it passed, I commented, “If that kind of noise keeps up all night, we probably won't sleep much.”

“Not sleep?” Winnie repeated. “Esmeralda, bailing out the boat was the most work I've ever done in my life. I have got aches and pains from muscles I never knew I had. Sleep? You better believe it, I could sleep through the entire Air Force landing and taking off!”

We all laughed.

Daisy peeked out to see if Percival was coming. “What's keeping him?”

“Well, he said he'd check to see if the coast was clear,” I reminded her. But it was taking him quite some time. “There he comes!” Winnie said.

Then I realized what had kept him so long—he was bringing bathrobes, which probably meant it took the desk clerk time to round them up.

Percival handed the robes to me and helped Winnie out of the car. Daisy and me got out after her. “Coast is clear,” he said.

If anyone saw us, I did not see them. It was a good thing; anybody see us they'd be liable to think we had walked the plank and been fished outta the deep! At least the way we looked was a perfect disguise for Winnie. Nobody would ever guess that the woman wearing only one shoe, a muddy pantsuit, a bedraggled parka, and leaving a wet trail behind her was Mrs. Philip Winchester, one of the richest women in the world.

Percival saw to it that the elevator didn't stop to let anybody on until we reached the top floor. He gave Daisy the key to her room, and I followed Percival taking Winnie into our suite. “Mrs. Win
chus
ter,” he said, “you'll want to make a quick call or two. Everybody's worried sick about you, and they'll be anxious to hear that you're safe.”