Double Doublecross (10 page)

Carl rang off leaving Sara thunderstruck and her senses numb. She sat down and thought things over. If she had to be in Seattle on Christmas Day, there was no time to lose.

First, she had to plan her trip and book motel rooms. Finding Carl's place was easy. She had been there before. It was in a large six-floor complex with a huge foyer and two banks of elevators. She knew where they were and had no problem with that part of the instructions.

How would she handle Rick? When should she leave? How far was it to drive to Seattle? She had always taken a flight there on previous occasions. Now she was in a panic trying to figure out what to do next.

She needed a map, and as luck would have it, there was a highway map of the West Coast in her car. Retrieving the map from the car glove compartment, she sat in the family room and opened the map.

From Rick's house to Seattle was about eight hundred miles. It was already the twenty second of December. She would have to move fast and leave now. She mapped out a rough route. Her first point of the route would be to take the I-80 East Freeway to Sacramento and pick up the I-5 North all the way to Seattle.

After that, Sara took the Tourister bag containing Carl's clothes, removed the ribbon and placed it in the large suitcase. Luckily it left just enough room for her to pack a few items of clothing for the trip.

Checking her purse for cash, she had about twenty dollars in cash and change. No need to go to the bank. She would use her credit cards.

Packing the suitcase in the trunk of her car, she went back
to the kitchen and scribbled out a note for Rick saying that she had to fly to Seattle to see her brother. He had fallen and broken his arm and ankle, and he needed some help. Although it sounded weak, it was the best excuse she could think of in such a short span of time. Climbing into her car, she started off in the direction of Interstate 5.

Sara did not like long driving trips, but Carl had been quite emphatic about the importance and timing of the trip, especially regarding the point of driving to Seattle. It was now ten o'clock, and she estimated that she should make Sacramento by noon allowing for traffic holdups and the frequent changes in weather conditions. With luck she should reach the Northern California border with Oregon by nightfall.

Not liking to drive too far in the wet, dark evening, she decided to find a motel before dusk and set off early the next morning.

Meanwhile Rick had talked to Janet and Tom Hughes in San Diego confirming that he was continuing his search for suitable property to show them in the New Year. His search had little success. It was not an area that people frequently moved from. Reflecting on his disappointing search, he instantly had the idea of selling his place. It was conceivable that his house might be just what they were looking for.

The idea did not appeal to him, but it was a way out of the financial hole he had created for himself due to the old enemies of high self-indulgence and the good life. He was aware of the comfortable feeling the couple had for the area, and the sale would help the office and him at the same time. For the time being he put the idea out of his mind.

It was close to six o'clock, time to quit the office and go
home to Sara. Reaching the house, Rick let himself in via the connecting garage door. He realized immediately the house was engulfed in total silence. There was no music or television playing. Wandering into the kitchen, he called Sara's name, but there was no reply. He stared at the scribbled note on the countertop, reading it with astonishment.
Gone to see her brother
, it read.

Instantly, he felt disappointed and angry at the same time. Why hadn't she called him at the office and let him know? He could have taken her to the airport.

He went to her room and saw that there were clothes still hanging in her closet. Now he had to let Stan and Helen know there would be one less for dinner over the holiday.

Sara's odd behavior struck him as very bizarre to say the least. He now realized this was not the sort of woman he was looking for, despite the physical attraction. Rick picked up the phone and dialed the cell phone number she had given him when she had moved in. There was no reply.

Maybe she left it behind … No, not possible, as he would have heard it in her room. Why wasn't she answering her phone?

Putting on the coffee, he looked through his refrigerator for a frozen dinner and settled down on the sofa. Calling Stan, he explained his position and apologized for Sara.

Sara had taken a room in a small motel near the California and Oregon border. She had a modest dinner at a roadside diner then settled down for the night. Her cell phone rang and kept ringing, so it wasn't Carl. Eventually it stopped, and Sara wondered if it was Phil or even Rick. Whoever called her, she was not going to answer as per Carl's instructions.

The alarm awoke her with the sound of soft music. She lay
there thinking about the last twenty-four hours of her life. ‘This is insane,' she thought. ‘What am I doing?'

After an early breakfast, Sara came to the conclusion she had to speak to Carl about the events she had been through during the last few hours. Making the necessary coded call, she finally got hold of Carl.

“Carl, I want to know more about what's going on. I think you should tell me more.”

“The less you know, the safer you are. Just do as you're told and follow my instructions. Everything will turn out fine eventually. Don't phone me anymore. We'll meet at the elevators as arranged. All I can tell you is that we're heading for Easy Street. See you later, sweetie pie.”

He rang off before she could say anything. Getting into her car, she set off for her next stop, somewhere near Portland she estimated. The scenery of beautiful rolling hills and pine forests was blurred as the weather continued on its inclement path. The journey would probably take less time than at first estimated. Portland was only about two hours from Eugene and she should reach there by midday.

Pulling into a gas station just north of Eugene, she attempted to contact Carl once again, but he was not answering his cell or apartment phones. Sara felt lonely and nervous, for this was the first time in her life she had operated in a clandestine environment. Her life so far had been uneventful and always on the right side of the law.

Now she had an uneasy feeling of being involved with something either lawless, dangerous or both. Subconsciously she wanted to turn back, but Carl Regis had been very persuasive in his attitude, plus there was the promise of lucrative good times ahead according to Carl. This suited her lifestyle goals and motivated her to keep going. Reaching
Portland, she decided to go halfway to Seattle and find a motel room within one hour of her final destination. Sara was now looking for an overnight stop between Portland and Seattle.

Carl Regis was nervous and apprehensive about carrying out his plan to steal a large sum of money from the drug cartel. Normally hundreds of millions of dollars needing to be laundered passed through his hands for dispersal along the West Coast during the course of a year.

Temptation had always been there to take some cream off the top, but loyalty to the cartel had always taken first place and the risk far too great. Now the time was drawing near to execute his plan to abscond with enough money in unmarked notes to set him and Sara up for life.

The plan was simple—take the money, conceal it, face the consequences which may be painful, pick up the money when things cooled off, drive across the USA to Florida, and from there, find a way of moving the money to the Virgin Islands one way or another.

The phone kept ringing, but he knew he shouldn't answer it. More than likely it was Sara getting up tight about the whole business, or it might have been Phil Speed trying to contact him. He knew he hadn't talked to him for the past two weeks, and he realized he might need him in the near future. They had worked together many times in past, and as a backup to his plan, he thought Phil might be interested in making a few thousand to help pay off some of his gambling debts.

Sara woke up to the sound of the alarm clock. It was Christmas Day. Switching off the radio she looked out of the
window at the weather. The sun was trying to break through a murky gray sky where clouds were racing across the heavens as if they were anxious to reach the mountains and drop their load of snow on the already coated Cascades.

It was still cold outside. After Sara showered and dressed, she wrapped a long coat around herself and made off to the nearest diner for breakfast.

Driving into Seattle she could do some sightseeing in the morning, and then meet Carl at the elevators. She couldn't help but notice how deserted and quiet the streets were. People were either in church or opening presents with their families. Approaching the city she could see the beautiful snow-capped Cascade Mountains and the lofty summit of Mount Rainier.

Slowly she made her way to the impressive Space Needle landmark and the harbor of Puget Sound. Sara looked for a diner or restaurant, but every eating place was closed for the holiday. Finally a fast food place came into view with its neon sign saying O
pen
.

When she opened the door to enter the restaurant, she noticed that there were just a few people seated eating the usual fast food fare. She ordered a fast meal and a cup of coffee. She sat there contemplating her forthcoming act as directed by Carl Regis. Little did she know that her destiny would be changed in the next few hours.

C
arl Regis looked at his watch. Two forty-five. He'd be at the apartment inside the next fifteen minutes. He glanced sideways at the Tourister bag on the passenger seat of his car, feeling both excited and apprehensive at his accomplishment. He had successfully stolen a large amount of cash from the cartel without them knowing.

He knew eventually he would be questioned about the theft, but not making a run for it, would clear him of any mistrust. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he easily noticed no one following him thanks to the scarcity of traffic. Carl pulled into the parking lot, his hands were sticky and his mouth was dry.

Now he was waiting for Sara's arrival. It was five minutes to three. He anticipated she should be there very soon. After a couple of minutes he saw Sara drive into the parking lot and get out of the car. She went to the trunk, opened it and took out the large suitcase containing the Tourister bag.

Quickly, she walked through the front door into the lobby and made her way to the far bank of elevators. Carl grabbed his Tourister bag and headed for the lobby door. As he was
about to enter the lobby, he noticed a large gray Lincoln Town Car occupied by two men pulling into the parking lot—and parking their car next to his. He didn't recognize them as residents, making him feel uneasy and suspicious.

Swiftly he made his way to the first bank of elevators and pressed the button. As luck would have it, the door opened and he hurried inside pressing the third floor button.

Sara arrived at the third floor and walked out into the hallway. An elevator opened and Carl Regis emerged in a panic and raced toward Sara.

“Stay there and open the big case,” he whispered urgently. “Get ready to switch Tourister bags.”

“What's this all about, Carl? I—”

“Quiet! Put this bag in your big case and tie the ribbon on it. Here's the key—don't lose it. Give me my bag and beat it fast. Wait for my call.”

He pushed the elevator button and the door opened immediately. He shoved Sara through the door and said softly, “Run! Beat it back to California. I'll be in touch, and don't let that bag out of your sight under any condition.”

Carl reached his apartment door, went quickly into the spacious room, sat down with the bag of clothes next to him and waited for the anticipated visit.

Sara stepped out of the elevator, hurried to her car and placed the suitcase in the trunk, little knowing what was inside the bag. Slowly she drove out of the parking lot and headed south to the freeway.

It was starting to snow as she continued driving south, looking for a place to stay for the night. The snow was increasing to blizzard conditions, and Sara knew she had to find somewhere soon, as driving conditions were deteriorating quickly.

She stopped at a small motel and booked into a comfortable room with a double bed, cable television and a coffee maker. At least she had something to drink, she thought, as she placed her suitcase on the floor. There was a small restaurant next to the motel and it was still open in spite of the holiday.

Sara made her way through the blinding snow to the restaurant door. As she entered the dining room a woman's voice said “We close in about five minutes ma'am so make it quick. How about a ham sandwich and a coffee to go?”

“Thanks, that'll do fine,” Sara said.

Picking up the bag containing the sandwich and coffee, she made her way back to the motel. Sitting at the small table, she opened the bag and started to eat the sandwich when she stopped, walked across the room and placed the large suitcase on the bed. Opening it, she took out the Tourister bag that Carl had given her and stared at it. What was in it and why had Carl rushed to get her into the elevator?

The case was locked. She took the key and unlocked it. Slowly she unzipped the flap and folded it back to reveal its contents. Sara stifled a cry and couldn't believe her eyes.

Bundles of bank notes were crammed tightly into it with no space to spare. Sara put her hands to her mouth and gasped. She had never seen so much money in her life.

Now she began to understand why Carl had rushed her out of the apartment block. He wanted the money out of his possession as soon as possible. Sitting on the bed, Sara began to compose herself and became curious as to how much money there was in the case. Gingerly picking up the first batch, she took off the rubber band wrapped tightly around the roll of bills.

She knew there was an enormous sum of money in the bag. After about thirty minutes she stopped counting the
first wad of bills. Tipping the remainder onto the bed, she made a quick estimate of the total value spread out in front of her. It was considerably more than a million dollars, more than she had ever seen before. She zipped up the bag and stared at the wall in disbelief.