The Chambers Files
Charles R. Rogers
A New Slant on Crime Fiction
The Chambers Files
CHAPTER 1
Detective Bobby Chambers saw snowflakes in the air as he stepped from his car. They had gotten four inches of fresh snow yesterday afternoon and last night. Was it starting again, or was it blowing off the trees and roofs? Both ways, it was still overcast, and the January wind off the nearby Occoquan River was cold blowing down his neck.
In his mid-30s, Chambers could remember when dead bodies were rare in Lake Ridge, VA. But as more and more people moved out of nearby Washington, D.C., crime seemed to move with them. His quiet life as a police detective in the suburbs was becoming more like big city life every day.
He adjusted the collar on his coat as he walked across the commuter parking lot toward the pile of snow surrounded by police personnel. “What a way to start a Monday!” he thought.
"What we got?” he asked Sergeant Jacobs as he approached. Sergeant Ben Jacobs had been Chambers “right-hand-man” since he made detective. In his early 40s, Jacobs had grown up in the area and had joined the Lake Ridge Police force shortly after high school. He was Chambers first partner when Bobby joined the force and they had been close friends ever since. When Chambers was promoted to detective, he insisted on having Jacobs assigned to his unit. “A slug found her,” Jacobs said, as he motioned to the middle-aged man standing with another officer a few yards away. Slugging was very popular in the Washington, D.C. area. The law requires there to be at least two or more people in the cars using the faster HOV (high occupancy vehicle) lanes during rush hour. Commuters who don’t want to take their car into the city, or pay to ride the bus or train, line up at predetermined locations throughout the Virginia and Maryland suburbs. Those who do want to take their car to work, but need another body, or slug, to use the HOV lanes stop, announce what part of Washington they are going to, and take on as many passengers as they can accommodate. In the evening, the “slugs” line up at predetermined corners in Washington to catch rides back to the commuter lots where they started. The practice has never been “officially” sanctioned or recognized, but some people in the area have been doing it successfully for years.
"Said he saw a shoe on the ground.” Jacobs continued. “When he got out of his car to move it out of the parking space, he saw the woman’s foot sticking out of the pile.”
" Any ID?” asked Chambers.
"No,” replied Jacobs. “We’re trying to search the rest of the snowbank and the parking lot. The snow plows came through about five o’clock this morning, and of course all these cars are just in the way.”
Det. Chambers squatted down to watch as the coroner’s team finished digging the woman’s body out of the snow. She looked to be in her mid-20s. She was wearing jeans and a grey sweatshirt with “GEORGETOWN” arching across the front in blue. He made a mental note to call the Washington police to see if any Georgetown University students had been reported missing.
" Any idea how long she’s been dead?” he asked the assistant coroner.
" Not sure,” he replied. “Looks like she was strangled though. Got some nasty bruises and abrasions on her neck. The cold from the snow’s going to make time of death difficult to pin down, but we’ll give you our best guess as soon as we have one.”
"It’s just a good thing someone found her when they did. The plows just keep piling the snow higher every time they clear the lot. It could have been months before this snowbank melted and we found her.”
Det. Chambers stood up and started over to where the man who found her was standing with an officer. “Detective Bobby Chambers, Lake Ridge Police,” he introduced himself as he approached the man. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
" Don’t really know anything,” said the man. “Like I told the officer, I didn’t want to run over the shoe, so I got out to move it. When I saw a foot sticking out of the snow, I called the police.” “Did you check to see if she was alive?” asked Chambers. “I checked,” said the man. “Her foot was cold and stiff when I touched it, and the snow was packed pretty hard, so I kind of assumed she was dead. Can I go now? I’m already late for work.”
" Do we have his information?” Chambers asked the officer.
As the officer nodded, Chambers said, “We may need to talk to you again, so don’t leave the area without letting us know.”
Chambers watched as the man walked over to the bus stop sign on the other side of the lot. It was almost 9:00 now and most of the people needing a slug had come and gone.
" Anybody see anything?” Chambers asked as Sergeant Jacobs walked up.
"No,” he replied, “She was probably already in the snowbank before the morning commuters arrived. They found this in the snow under the body,” he said as he handed Chambers a plastic bag containing a small pendant shaped like Texas.
"Looks like our woman, or the killer had some kind of Texas connection,” Chambers said. “File it with anything else you find,” he said as he handed the bag back to Jacobs. “Anyone talk to the crew who plowed the lot this morning?”
" Yes, I had one of my men go over to the VDOT (Virginia Dept. Of Transportation) yard and interview them,” replied Jacobs. “They claim they didn’t see anything or anybody. The way I figure it, someone dumped the body on the snowbank, covered her with some loose snow, and was going to let the plows do the rest. Thought we wouldn’t find her ‘til spring.”
"It almost worked,” Chambers said shaking his head.
As he got back in his car to head for the station, Chambers took a slow look around. He could remember when this commuter lot was a department store parking lot. Now the department store was gone, the lot was filled with the cars of commuters, and he apparently had a murder to solve.
CHAPTER 2
As he drove back to the station, Chambers kept thinking about the victim. Nothing unusual about her. She was about average size and build, blond hair, not a “beauty queen” yet attractive. But, there was something wrong, something out of place in the mental image he had of the crime scene.
As he walked into the station, he looped by the evidence room and told the officer on duty, “Let me know as soon as the crime scene photos are ready from the “Jane Doe” in the commuter lot.”
"Will do,” replied the officer. “Be about another hour.”
Chambers went to his desk and began checking his e-mail. Just the usual stuff. A reminder about the annual charity hockey game between the police department and the fire department next weekend, a couple of corny jokes that had been making their way around the station the past few weeks, and one from his wife reminding him to call the kennel about boarding their dog while they are out of town next weekend for her cousin’s wedding in Texas.
Chambers immediately picked up the phone to call the kennel. He had been putting it off, hoping to find an excuse not to go to the wedding. But he knew if he didn’t make those reservations soon, the kennel might be full, and then he would have an even bigger problem.
Next, he called a friend he had at the Washington police department.
"D.C. Police, Detective Miller,” said the voice on the phone.
" Steve,” Chambers said, “its Bobby. How are things in the big city?”
"Oh, about the same,” replied Miller. “The President is out of town, Congress is still on recess, and the World Bank meeting is still over a month away, so it was pretty quiet this weekend.
What’s up?”
" Had a young woman with no ID show up dead in one of our commuter lots this morning wearing a Georgetown sweatshirt,” Chambers said. “Could be a tourist or a fan, but got any missing person reports on a female GU student in her 20s, 5' 4", blond hair?”
"Not that I know of,” Miller replied, “but I’ll call if I hear anything. You playing in the hockey game next weekend?”
"My hockey days are over,” laughed Chambers. “Besides, I’ve got to go to Texas for a wedding next weekend. We’ve got a couple of retired Capitals and one guy from the Maple Leafs in our police auxiliary. I figure they can handle the fire fighters without me.”
" Right,” laughed Miller. “I’ll call you if I get anything on your ‘Jane Doe.’”
As Chambers hung up the phone, a clerk walked over with a large envelope. “You wanted these crime scene photos,” she said as she handed Chambers the envelope.
"Thanks.”
As Chambers looked through the photos, he said to himself, “What a waste.” He had seen dozens of dead bodies over the years, but it still gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach when he saw someone so young. As he stared at one of the photos of the victim, he couldn’t help wondering, “Who are you? What is your story?” As he moved onto the next photo, he said barely audibly, “I guess we’ll just have to find out.”
As he thumbed through the photos one more time, he couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling something was wrong, out of place, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.
CHAPTER 3
“Chambers’ residence,” Rebecca said as she answered the phone.
"Hi, Honey. It’s me,” said Chambers. “I might be a little late getting home. I’ve got a few stops to make.”
" I heard about your unidentified woman,” said Rebecca. “They had a sketch of her on the
WUSA Channel 9 News at five. Any idea who she is?”
"No,” he said hesitantly. “That’s why we asked the media to run the sketch. We’re hoping someone will recognize her and call us. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
" Did you call the kennel?” Rebecca asked.
"Yes,” replied Chambers. “It’s all taken care of. But, just keep in mind, depending on how this case is going; I may not be able to get away this weekend.”
"Bobby, you promised!” she exclaimed. “We already have the plane tickets, and they are expecting us. I’m supposed to serve cake at the reception.”
"I know,” he said. “I didn’t say anything about you not going. But I may need to stay here.
After all, it’s your cousin. I barely know her.”
Bobby and Rebecca had both grown up in nearby Manassas, VA. They had known each other most of their lives and had begun dating in high school. After graduating from George Mason University in Fairfax, VA, they had married and Chambers had accepted a position as a patrolman with the Lake Ridge Police Department in western Prince William County, VA. It had taken him over 10 years to work his way up to detective, but it had been worth it. He loved what he did, and looked forward to work almost every day.
One of Rebecca’s uncles had moved to Texas in the early ‘60s to work in the booming oil industry, and now his youngest daughter was getting married.
"We’ll see,” assured Chambers. “I’ll try to go, but we both knew all along this was a possibility.”
He hung up the phone and headed for his car. He had asked that some officers interview commuters as they returned to their cars during the evening rush hour and to continue searching the lot as it emptied.
Pulling into the commuter lot, he could see two or three officers talking to people as they exited their bus and another group of officers searching the areas of the lot already emptying.
" Any luck,” he asked as he walked up to where Sergeant Jacobs was standing.
"Maybe a little,” the sergeant replied. “One guy we talked to said he thinks he saw our victim in a club down the hill in Occoquan Saturday night. Didn’t know her name, said he saw her standing alone near the door and tried to start a conversation with her, but she ‘shot him down.’ A few seconds later, a distinguished looking gentleman in his early 50s approached from the men’s room, and they left together.”
The village of Occoquan, VA, was about a mile down the hill from the commuter lot. Founded in the early 1700's, it had been an important center of area commerce in past centuries. It was located along the Occoquan River, just a few hundred yards from where the river emptied into the Potomac. Its location, at the head of the tidewater, made Occoquan a natural site for waterborne commerce from the earliest days of the settlement of Virginia. It had its own post office and zip code, and a thriving collection of craft shops, quaint restaurants, and clubs.
"What club was it? Did he recognize the gentleman?” ask Chambers.
" Margie's Waterfront restaurant. Said he didn’t recognize the gentleman, but he looked like someone important though, well groomed, snappy dresser. We’ve got his information if you want to talk to him.”
"Not right now,” replied Chambers, “but be sure to leave it on my desk at the station. Anything else?”
“I’m afraid not,” replied Jacobs.
“Be sure to run the license plates on any cars remaining in the lot tonight. Maybe we’ll get lucky and one of them will belong to our victim,” said Chambers as he turned to leave.
"So, our girl partied in Occoquan Saturday night,” Chambers thought as he walked back to his car. “Maybe someone at Margie’s knows something.”
CHAPTER 4
Margie’s Waterfront restaurant was one of his and Rebecca’s favorites in Occoquan. Located in an old warehouse right on the river, most evenings it was just a very nice place to have dinner. But Friday and Saturday nights, they had a band and the place was usually packed.
" Hi, Tom,” Chambers said as he walked in. He had known Tom Higgins, the general manager, since high school.
“Hi, Detective,” said Higgins. “Where’s your wife?”
"This is an official call,” replied Chambers. “You seen this girl?” he asked as he showed
Higgins the sketch of the victim. “Someone said they think she was in here Saturday night.”
“Along with about a thousand other people,” said Higgins. “Does look a little familiar. Let me ask around a little.”
Chambers had a soda at the bar while Higgins talked to some of the staff. After a few moments, he returned with one of the waiters.
" Ben said he thinks he waited on your girl Saturday night,” said Higgins.
“Do you know who she is?” asked Chambers.
"No,” said Ben. “I’ve seen her in here a couple of times. Always with an older guy in his 50s.
They always pay with cash. He may have called her Mary once, but I’m not sure.” “Any idea who the older guy is?” asked Chambers.
"No,” said Ben. “Somebody said they thought he was some kind of government official, but I don’t really know.”
" Thanks for your help,” said Chambers. “Call me if you remember anything else, or if the man she was with ever comes back in,” he said as he handed Ben a business card. “That goes for you too, Tom,” he said to Higgins as he turned to leave. “Keep the picture and show it around.” “Of course,” said Higgins. “Always ready to cooperate with the police.”
CHAPTER 5
“We may have a lead on our dead girl,” said Sergeant Jacobs as Chambers walked into the police station Tuesday morning. “We ran the plates of the last 12 cars in the commuter lot about 10:00 last night. The 11 Virginia plates came back as locals who got caught working very late. But one had a D.C. plate. It came back as a Mary Thomas. Address is an apartment just off DuPont
Circle in D.C. I called to have the D.C. police check it out. No word yet.”
"That fits,” said Chambers. “I talked to a waiter at Margie’s last night who thought the man she was with Saturday night called her Mary.”
" Another thing,” said Jacobs, “all but one of the cars with the Virginia plates was picked up overnight. It and the car with the D.C. plates are still there.”
"If the owners don’t show up by 10:00 tonight have both cars towed,” said Chambers. “Any word from the coroner on time of death?”
" Sometime between Sunday Noon and Sunday Midnight,” replied Jacobs handing Chambers a folder. “Said the snow made it almost impossible to pin down closer than that. They did confirm she was strangled.
Also, we ran the woman’s prints through the FBI data base. Came up blank. If she ever committed a crime, she was never fingerprinted.”
"What about federal workers?” asked Chambers. “Aren’t they fingerprinted when they are hired?”
" Most of them,” said Jacobs. “There are thousands of interns working up on The Hill.
Sometimes one slips through the cracks.”
“Let me know as soon as you hear back from the D.C. Police about the apartment,” said Chambers.
"At least we may have a name and address now,” he thought as he sat down at his desk. “But that still doesn’t tell us who the guy is, or why she ended up dead down here in Virginia.”
Looking through his phone messages, he noticed one from Tom Higgins at Margie’s, but he didn’t recognize the number. “Maybe he remembered something,” he thought.
"This better be important,” said the sleepy voice on the other end of the phone.
"Tom, sorry to call so early, it’s Bobby Chambers,” he said. “Got a message you called.”
“It’s OK,” said Higgins still a little groggy, “I have to be up in a few hours anyway. I showed that picture you left to a few people last night. A guy who lives in an apartment over on Ellicott St. in Occoquan says he thinks he’s seen your girl in his building. Said she was with a guy fitting Ben’s description of the older man. Thinks the older guy moved into an apartment in the building a couple of months ago, but he’s not sure which one.” “Did he know who the older man is?” asked Chambers.
" Not really,” said Higgins. “Thinks he works for some congressman, but he’s not sure. Said the guy’s not there much. Shows up on weekends mostly, occasionally in the middle of the week.
Sometimes with the girl, sometimes without.”
“Thanks, Tom,” said Chambers. “I owe you one.”
“Just bring your wife in for an expensive dinner some time,” replied Higgins as he hung up the phone.
“Detective Miller for you on line three,” said Jacobs as Chambers put the receiver down.
" Hi, Steve. What’s up?” said Chambers as he punched line three.
"Still no missing person’s reports, but I had a couple of my guys check out that address Sergeant Jacobs called about. Seems the apartment is rented to a Mary Thomas. Moved in about three months ago. No roommates, but a neighbor said she hadn’t seen her since Friday. Said it’s not too unusual for her to be gone all weekend, but that she usually shows back up Sunday evening sometime.”
"Any idea where she works, where she’s from?” Chambers asked.
"The neighbor thinks she works up on Capitol Hill,” replied Miller. “That’s where most of the people in the building work. She didn’t know where she was from. Thinks her car might have had Texas plates before she got her D.C. plates, but she’s not sure. I’ll have my guys keep asking around the neighborhood.”
"Any chance of getting a search warrant?” asked Chambers.
" Not at this time,” said Miller. “I called the judge. He said if Ms. Thomas doesn’t show up by Wednesday night, he’ll give us one Thursday morning.”
"I appreciate the info, Steve,” said Chambers. “Keep me posted if you find out anything else. I'll do the same.”
As he hung up the phone, Chambers thought to himself, “Maybe a trip to Texas this weekend is in order.”
CHAPTER 6
“Hi, Denise,” said Rebecca Chambers as she arrived at the Prince William County Social Services Office in Manassas. Like her husband, Rebecca loved helping people. She had done an internship with the county while working on her social work degree at George Mason University and had been offered a position after graduation.
“Hi, Rebecca,” replied the nurse looking up from the chart in her hand. “Going to be a busy morning” she continued. “Got a waiting room full of people already.”
“Anything special?” asked Rebecca.
“Some sick children, a couple street people got some mild frost bite from the snow,” she replied. "Mostly the usual. There is one couple you really need to talk to though. Young couple named Victor Hernandez and his girlfriend Lucy Sanchez. They brought their baby in with a cold. Dr. Gold said baby’s going to be fine, but I think the parents could use a little more help than the doctor can provide.”
As she waited for Denise to bring them in, Rebecca looked over the limited information in Lucy and Victor’s file. The address was a government housing complex a few blocks away. It wasn’t exactly the best place to be raising a child, but at least it was warm and dry. “Lucy and Victor,” said Denies as she escorted the family into Rebecca’s office, “this is our social worker, Mrs. Chambers.”
“Please,” she said as she rose to greet them, “call me Rebecca. Won’t you have a seat?” The file didn’t list an age for either of them, but Rebecca guessed the young parents to be no older than 20. “What’s your baby’s name?”
“Amanda,” replied Lucy nervously. “Is there something wrong? The doctor said she just had a cold.”
“No,” assured Rebecca, “Amanda is going to be fine. I just wanted to talk to you a moment to see if there’s anything the county can do to help you. Your file said you don’t have any other family nearby.”
“We don’t need nothing or nobody!” said Victor boldly. “Our family don’t want us, and we don’t need’m. I can take care of us.”
“I’m sure you can,” replied Rebecca. “But it never hurts to have a little help sometimes. What do you mean your family doesn’t want you?”
Lucy dropped her head a little. “My family never really approved of us dating from the start. When I got pregnant with Amanda, they tried to make me get an abortion and my dad threatened Victor if he ever came around again. So, we ran away and came here.”
“Where is your family?” asked Rebecca. “Where did you move here from?”
“We came here from Ohio,” said Lucy. “My family moves around a lot. My dad and brothers follow the work. I don’t know where they are now. I tried to contact them when Amanda was born, but they had moved again.”
“Why did you come here?” Rebecca asked.
“Victor went to high school here,” answered Lucy. “He knew he could find work.”
“Victor,” ask Rebecca softly, “what about your family? Do they still live in the area?”
“Ain’t got no family,” Victor spat out. “I never knew my dad and my mom died couple years ago. Like I said, we don’t need nobody or nothing. Can we go now?”
“Sure,” Rebecca said as they all stood. “Just so you know, we have parenting classes that meet twice a week. It’s mostly just a time for young parents to get together and talk about what’s going on with their kids. I know you don’t really need any help, but there is free child care and lunch provided. You’re welcome to join us sometime if you want.”
“That might be nice,” said Lucy as they left the office. “I’ll think about it.”
CHAPTER 7
It was late afternoon when Chambers pulled up in front of the Ellicott Manor Apartments. Like most of the apartments in Occoquan, the units were all small and quaint. Many of them were inhabited by craftsmen who owned nearby shops or history buffs who loved the feel of the old village. Chambers had to admit, Occoquan was a very special place. He could remember, as a boy, coming down here with his mom at Christmas time. Looking for that one special, unique gift that couldn’t be found in department stores. He had even applied as a guide for the Occoquan Ghost Tours in high school, but was never hired.
Making his way to the manager’s apartment, he knocked on the door. “Who is it?" came the woman’s voice through the door.
“Detective Bobby Chambers, Lake Ridge Police,” he responded.
After a moment, the door opened and a refined looking woman in her early 40s stepped out. “Is there a problem?” she asked.
“Just need to ask you a couple of questions,” said Chambers. “Have you seen this woman?” he asked as he showed her the sketch of the victim.
“She does look familiar,” said the manager, “but she’s not one of my tenants.”
“We think she may have been visiting one of your tenants,” said Chambers. “Have you had any new tenants in the past few months?”
“No,” said the woman. “But several of the apartments are leased to companies or politicians. They use them as weekend getaways or to house important clients when they want to impress them. We have new people in and out of those units all the time. As long as the rent stays paid and they don’t cause any trouble, I hardly notice who’s using the apartment.”
“So, you don’t know who she is, or who she was here to see?” asked Chambers.
“Like I said, I try to mind my own business. If there is nothing else, I have some soup on the stove I need to check on. Good day, detective,” she said as she closed the door.
Chambers needed to clear his head, so he walked all the way down Ellicott St. to where it dead ended into Mills St., which runs along the river, and turned right. It was almost 5:00 and some of the shops were preparing to close. He could see the cars lined up on the Highway123 Bridge as thousands of commuters made their way home after a long day inside the beltway. He turned right again on Union St. and headed back to his car.
He was beginning to get frustrated. How could this woman, this Mary Thomas, or whatever her name was, just show up out of the blue with no past, no connections to anyone or any place else? And, who was this older man she had been seen with? Where did he fit in?
CHAPTER 8
Chambers thumbed through the crime scene photos again. “What am I missing?” he whispered.
It was just after noon on Wednesday, and still they had not been able to make a positive ID on the victim. The car with the D.C. plates had still been in the commuter lot the night before, so they had towed it in. But so far, a search of the car had revealed nothing new.
“Detective Chambers, I think you should talk to the man on line three,” said Sergeant Jacobs.
He picked up the phone and punched line three, “Detective Chambers,” he said.
“I think I know who the young woman is you found Monday morning,” said the man’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Go on,” said Chambers as he straightened up in his chair.
“Her name is Mary Thomas,” said the voice, “and she’s from someplace near Austin, TX. Don’t remember the name of the town. Anyway, she was mixed up in something bad and it seems to have gotten her killed.”
“What was she mixed up in? Who is this?” asked Chambers.
“Never mind who this is, just stop snooping around before someone else gets killed.” the man said as he hung up.
“Did we get a trace on that call?” Chambers shouted as he hung up the phone.
“Came from a pay phone in a Metro station near Arlington Cemetery,” replied Jacobs.
“Figures,” said Chambers. “We must be getting close though. At least close enough to make someone nervous.”
Chambers picked up the phone again and called Detective Miller. He briefly related the details of the call he had just received. “I know it’s not much,” said Chambers, “but he did confirm her name and that she moved here from Texas.”
“That, and the fact someone is getting too close for his comfort,” replied Miller. “Aren’t you scheduled to go to Texas this weekend?”
“Yes,” Chambers said. “Rebecca and I are flying out of BWI Friday morning for Austin. I was considering not going, but it’s looking more and more like Austin, TX, may be a good place to look for some answers to this mystery.”
“Just be careful,” said Miller. “Sounds like your phone caller knows who you are and means business. I‘ll call the judge again about the search warrant. Unless you hear otherwise from me, I’ll meet you at Ms. Thomas’ apartment at 10:00 tomorrow morning.”
“I’ll be there!” said Chambers as he hung up the phone.
CHAPTER 9
Chambers and Jacobs left the station about 8:30 Thursday morning to meet Det. Miller at Mary Thomas’ apartment. It was only about 25 miles, but with the Washington area traffic, it could easily take them an hour and a half to get there.
As they drove north on I-95, Jacobs noticed Chambers kept shaking his head and mumbling something about “people must be crazy.” Jacobs knew Chambers had asked him to come along as much so he could use the faster HOV lane as anything else.
“Can you believe this traffic!” exclaimed Chambers suddenly. “I will never understand people who make this commute every day. They must be crazy.”
“I know what you mean,” said Jacobs. “But some of them don’t have much choice. I mean, they work in Arlington or Washington for one of the government agencies, but they can’t afford to, or choose not to live any closer in. I feel lucky to be able to live and work in Lake Ridge.”
“You’re right,” sighed Chambers. He had to admit he and Rebecca had both been blessed to grow up, and still live, close to Washington without having to put up with all the daily commuting hassles. He just hoped his slower, calmer “suburban lifestyle” was not getting sucked in by the “big city lifestyle” as more and more people moved out of Washington to the smaller surrounding towns.
As they passed the Pentagon and headed across the 11th St. Bridge into Washington, Chambers saw the Washington Monument, Jefferson Memorial, and Lincoln Memorial off to his left. “You know, Jacobs,” he said reflectively, “as much as I complain about Washington, I must admit I always feel a certain patriotic pride every time I come into the city.”
“I know what you mean,” said Jacobs. “My sister and her family came up from Tennessee for a
week last summer. It felt kind of special showing them around. It really is a beautiful city!”
“Yes,” agreed Chambers, “Washington always has been, and will be, a very special place.”
They made their way across town to the DuPont Circle area. After a few minutes of searching, they found a place to park. Det. Miller, the apartment manager, and two D.C. Police officers were already there waiting when they arrived at the apartment.
“Everybody ready?” asked Miller after all the pleasantries were out of the way.
“Let’s do it,” said Chambers as the manager unlocked the door.
The apartment was small, but neat and clean. An old sofa, overstuffed chair, TV, and coffee table pretty much filled the living room. The kitchen had only a small table and a couple of chairs. The bedroom contained a double bed, night stand, and a small dresser.
“Why don’t you and Jacobs take the bedroom,” said Miller. “My men and I will start in the living room, and we’ll all meet in the kitchen.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” said Chambers as he and Jacobs headed through the living room to the bedroom.
“We’ll be sure to lockup when we leave,” Miller told the manager as he left.
The bedroom was small, but neat and clean like the rest of the apartment. Jacobs started with the closet, while Chambers began opening dresser drawers.
“Find anything?” Miller called from the kitchen a few minutes later.
“Just the usual clothing and personal items,” responded Chambers. “How about you?”
“This looks interesting,” Miller said, as Chambers and Jacobs walked into the kitchen.
On the counter, near the wall phone, was a small stack of mail. One of the envelopes had a Texas return address, 1611 Chisholm Trail, Round Rock, TX, 78681. Chambers jotted the address down on his note pad.
“Round Rock is where the wedding is I’m going to this weekend,” he said. “I’ll contact the Round Rock police and check it out while I’m down there.”
“Look at this,” said one of the D.C. officers.
Chambers and Miller both walked over to the table where the officer was standing. On the table was a stack of technical reports on atomic power and environmental issues from the Center for Energy Economics at the University of Texas and a map of Burnet County Texas.
“What do you make of it?” asked Miller.
“If I’m reading the map right,” said Chambers as he pointed to two red lines and a box labeled Lower Colorado Nuclear Plant, “it looks like someone is planning a dam and nuclear plant here near Marble Falls. Mind if I take this stuff with me?”
“Let my men catalog it and get a couple of photos first,” said Miller.
The rest of the kitchen cabinets and drawers were filled with typical kitchen items. They all left about noon. After stopping at Union Station for a quick lunch, Chambers and Jacobs headed south again.
“Get this,” said Jacobs as he thumbed through one of the technical reports. “It says here that building a dam where it indicates on the map would flood a large portion of the county, but it would make most of the town of Marble Falls waterfront property.”
“Does it mention the impact it could have downstream?” asked Chambers.
“Not yet,” said Jacobs, “but it’s probably in one of these reports somewhere.”
“Yes, it was very good he was already planning on going to Texas tomorrow,” Chambers thought.
CHAPTER 10
Back at the Lake Ridge Police Station, Chambers called the Round Rock Police to let them know what he had found and that he would be flying down the next day.
“Call me when you get checked in at your hotel,” said Det. Gonzales. “I’ll come by and pick you up, and we can go over to the Chisholm Trail address together.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Chambers. “Our flight gets in about 11:00 tomorrow morning. I’ll call you around 1:00 or 1:30.”
“See you then,” said Gonzales. Detective James Gonzales had lived in Round Rock, TX, all his life. He didn’t know the Thomas’s, but he knew a little about the neighborhood. Mostly upper middle class, a mix of young families and retired couples. He didn’t relish the thought of having to tell one of them their daughter or granddaughter had been found dead in a Virginia parking lot.
Chambers leaned back in his chair as he read the technical reports they had found in Mary Thomas’ apartment. It seems a company in Houston, Hous-Tex Energy, had proposed a nuclear power plant and dam on the Colorado River in Burnet County, near Marble Falls. According to the proposal by Hous-Tex, the plant would produce and sell electricity to most of Oklahoma and West Texas at a profit of approximately $300 million per year. The dam would make sure the plant always had sufficient water and would cause many land values in the area to skyrocket since it would now be lakefront property.
Chambers picked up the phone and called Det. Gonzales back. “Have you heard anything about a nuclear plant or dam being built near Marble Falls?” Chambers asked.
“No,” said Gonzales. “Why do you ask?”
Chambers quickly filled him in on what he had read.
“Be interesting to know who owns that land,” said Gonzales. “I’ll do some checking and let you know what I find out when I see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” said Chambers.
As he hung up the phone, he couldn’t help but wonder, “Where do you fit into all this Mary? And, who is your older friend, and is he involved?” He hoped he would find some answers in Texas.
CHAPTER 11
As they walked from their plane to the Austin airport luggage claim area, Chambers reassured his wife. “I know we’re here for your cousin’s wedding Rebecca. But this case I’m working on has direct connections to this area. I’ll just be gone this afternoon. I’ll leave you the rental car so you’ll be able to go to your uncle’s house or anywhere else you like. I’ll be back in time for the rehearsal dinner tonight at 7:00, and I will be at the wedding tomorrow afternoon. I promise.”
She knew he meant it, but she also knew her husband well enough to know that when he was working on a case, he often lost all track of time. “OK, just try not to be late,” she said as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Suddenly, Chambers stopped. “That’s it!” he exclaimed as he darted toward a family greeting a fellow passenger on their flight. As Rebecca turned to look, she saw a girl standing there in a grey sweatshirt with GEORGETOWN in blue letters arching across the front.
“Where did you get that sweatshirt?” Chambers asked as he ran up to the girl.
“At school,” the girl said, a little taken back.
“What’s going on here?” said the girl’s father as he stepped between Chambers and his daughter.
“I’m sorry,” said Chambers as he took a step back and pulled out his badge. “I’m Detective Bobby Chambers, Lake Ridge, VA, Police Department. We found a young woman wearing a sweatshirt just like that dead in a parking lot earlier this week.”
“I got the sweatshirt from the Spirit Shop at Georgetown High School when I was a senior there last year,” said the girl.
“Georgetown High School,” said Chambers to nobody in particular. “I had assumed the sweatshirt was from Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. I knew something was wrong. When I saw your shirt, it hit me, there’s no Hoya on the shirt. I am very sorry if I scared you, but this has been nagging at me all week.” He retrieved his and Rebecca’s luggage, apologized again to the girl and her family, and headed off with his embarrassed wife to the rental car counter.
CHAPTER 12
As soon as they got to their hotel, Chambers called Det. Gonzales. Gonzales was there in about 10 minutes. After reassuring his skeptical wife again, Chambers and Gonzales left for the Chisholm Trail address on the envelope in Mary Thomas’s apartment. As Gonzales drove, Chambers filled him in on the sweatshirt episode at the airport.
“Were you able to find out anything about the proposed nuclear plant in Burnet County or who owns the land?” Chambers asked.
“Nobody I talked to up there knows anything about a proposed power plant or dam,” Gonzales said. “But a land development company called Heart of Texas Development has been buying land in the area like crazy the past few months. Funny thing is, nobody ever heard of them until about six months ago. And, they have not expressed any interest in land adjacent to the river, only land that is a half-mile to a mile and a half away.”
“Kind of makes sense though,” said Chambers. “If the dam is built, the land adjacent to the river will be lake bed. It’s the cheaper land a mile or so away that will become prime lake front property.”
“I also asked a stock broker friend of mine about Hous-Tex Energy,” continued Gonzales. “He said Hous-Tex has been up and down the past few years. Said their stock is down now, but if they could pull off the kind of power plant deal you told me about, it could easily triple or even quadruple in value.”
“Sounds like someone could really make a bundle if they bought Hous-Tex stock now,” remarked Chambers.
“Sure seems that way,” agreed Gonzales.
They pulled up in front of the Chisholm Trail address on the envelope. It was a not a large house, but it looked quite comfortable, with a nicely landscaped yard.
“You ready?” asked Gonzales.
“I don’t know if I’m ever ready for these kinds of calls,” sighed Chambers.
They parked the car, strolled up the front walk, and knocked on the door. After a few moments, a man looking to be in his early 60s opened the door.
“Can I help you?” he asked cautiously.
“I’m Det. James Gonzales, Round Rock Police,” Gonzales said holding out his badge and ID. Then motioning to Chambers he continued, “This is Det. Chambers from the Lake Ridge, VA, police department. May we come in?”
“Of course,” the man said as he stepped back to let them in, “is there something wrong? Did you say you’re from Virginia?”
“Yes,” said Chambers as he cleared his throat. “Do you know this woman?” he asked as he showed the man the sketch of the victim.
“That’s our daughter Mary!” the man exclaimed. “Is she alright?”
“Who was it at the door Jim?” a woman called from another room.
“It’s a policeman from Virginia, Joan. He has news about Mary,” the man replied. “Is she alright?” he asked again as the woman quickly joined him.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Chambers said softly. “Mary is dead.”
“Oh no!” the woman gasped burying her head in her husband’s chest.
Jim and Joan Thomas had moved to Round Rock from California in the mid ‘90s so Jim could accept a job with Dell Computers. Their youngest daughter, Mary, had graduated from Stony Point High School and attended the University of Texas at Austin.
As they all sat around the dining room table, Chambers briefed Mr. And Mrs. Thomas on the details he knew about their daughter’s death. He was careful not to mention anything about the older man she had been seen with, the technical reports, map, or the proposed nuclear plant and dam in Burnet County.
“It’s that Donaldson’s fault,” said Mrs. Thomas.
“Now, Joan,” comforted Mr. Thomas, “we don’t know he had anything to do with this.”
“He’s the one responsible for her being in Washington!” demanded Mrs. Thomas.
“Who’s Donaldson?” asked Det. Gonzales.
“Dr. Anthony Donaldson,” said Mr. Thomas. “He was one of Mary’s professors at UT. Mary taught science and economics just up the interstate at Georgetown High School after she graduated. But every summer, she worked as a research assistant for Dr. Donaldson at the UT Center for Energy Economics. Then this past August, she suddenly quit her teaching job in Georgetown and announced she was going to work full time for Dr. Donaldson. One or both of them were always flying to Washington to talk to someone at the Energy Department or some congressional staffer.”
“Next thing we knew,” said Mrs. Thomas, picking up the story, “in November, she moved to Washington. Said it would be easier to live there and fly back down here when she needed to.”
“What about Dr. Donaldson?” asked Chambers. “Did he move to Washington, also?”
“I’m not sure,” said Mr. Thomas. “I know Mary was still working with him, but I don’t know if he still lives here, or if he moved also.”
“What does Dr. Donaldson look like?” inquired Chambers.
“About 50-55, touch of grey around the edges, sharp dresser,” said Mr. Thomas.
“Bingo,” thought Chambers. “Sounds like we may finally have a name for our mysterious older gentleman.”
“Again,” said Chambers as he handed Mr. Thomas a folder of forms and information he had brought with him from Virginia, “I am very sorry about Mary. All the contact information and paperwork you should need to claim Mary’s body is in that folder. I also placed one of my cards in there. Call me if you have any problems or if you think of anything else you forgot to tell us.”
“Thank you, Detective,” said Mrs. Thomas. “Please let us know when you catch whoever did this to our daughter.”
“I will,” assured Chambers as he and Gonzales stood to leave. “I will stay in touch with Det. Gonzales here. One of us will keep you updated.”
It was almost 6:30 as Chambers and Gonzales got back in the car. “You work on Saturday?” Chambers asked as they pulled away from the curb. “I think I’d like to go down to UT and look around a little tomorrow morning.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” replied Gonzales. “Pick you up at the hotel about 9:00 in the morning.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” responded Chambers.
Gonzales dropped Chambers off at the restaurant where the rehearsal supper was at 6:55. Rebecca was waiting out front with her arms crossed and an unpleasant look on her face. “See, I told you I wouldn’t be late,” said Chambers as he walked up and extended his arm.
“Very funny,” replied Rebecca as she looked at his arm. “I’m still trying to decide whether to accept that arm or break it.”
After a moment, she placed her arm in the crook of his elbow and said, “Well, you weren’t late. I guess you’re safe tonight. How did it go?”
“There are still a few loose ends to tie down, but it looks like things may be finally fitting together,” he said as they walked into the restaurant.
CHAPTER 13
Det. Gonzales picked Chambers up at 9:00 Saturday morning as planned. As he left the hotel room, Chambers reassured his wife he would be back in time for the wedding.
“The wedding starts at 2:00,” she said emphatically. “None of this 1:55 stuff. I want you there by 1:30!”
“I understand,” assured Chambers. “One thirty it is. See, I already have my suit on, so I won’t have to come back here to change.”
“Just keep it clean,” Rebecca scolded as Chambers walked out the door.
Chambers and Gonzales found the Center for Energy Economics on Guadalupe St. and parked the car. Even though it was a Saturday, there was still a lot of activity on campus. There was not a “Dr. Anthony Donaldson” on the directory in the lobby, so they headed for the Center Director’s office.
“Can I help you,” a woman’s voice asked from behind them as they tried the office door.
Turning around, they saw a woman in her mid-30s standing there with a small stack of bound reports in her arms.
“I’m Det. James Gonzales, Round Rock Police Department, and this is Det. Chambers from Lake Ridge, VA,” said Gonzales. “We were looking for a Dr. Anthony Donaldson, but his name was not on the directory in the lobby.”
“I’m Ms. Kline, the Center Director’s Assistant,” said the woman. “The Director is not in today, but if you will follow me I will try to help you.”
They followed her to an open door down the hall. As she walked into the large meeting room, she placed the stack of reports on the conference table. “We are having a meeting first thing Monday morning,” she said. “I came in today to setup the room so I would not have to be here so early Monday.”
“Dr. Donaldson is no longer with us,” Ms. Kline continued. “He resigned at the end of the summer term. I don’t know where he went. Really wish I did; he took all his research with him. That research belongs to the university. We would like to get it back”
“What was he working on before he left?” asked Chambers.
“Something up in Burnet County,” she said. “Don’t know what exactly. Dr. Donaldson always ‘played his cards close to the vest,’ if you know what I mean. Didn’t share much of his info with anyone until he had completed his research and filed his report. That’s why we’re so anxious to get the research back he took with him.”
“What about the computer file?” asked Gonzales.
“All erased,” said Ms. Kline. “Like I said, Dr. Donaldson tried to keep everything hush-hush until he was ready to share it with the world. Did most of his work on his laptop. Occasionally he would download a backup copy of some of his information into the university main frame and password protect it, but there is nothing there now.”
“What about Mary Thomas?” asked Chambers. “Does that name ring a bell?”
“Used to follow Dr. Donaldson around like a little puppy,” laughed Ms. Kline. “Only worked here in the summers after she graduated. Smart girl, had a good head on her shoulders when it came to science and economics. Good at research, too. But she went all googly eyed around Dr. Donaldson.”
“Ever heard of Hous-Tex Energy or Heart of Texas Development?” asked Gonzales.
“Sure, we have done a couple of feasibility studies for Hous-Tex. Unfortunately, most of what they propose can’t get past the Federal regulators. Can’t say I’ve heard of Heart of Texas Development before, but there are hundreds of new developers popping up every day around Austin.”
“We may have some of Dr. Donaldson’s research at the Lake Ridge Police Department,” said Chambers. “I will be sure you get it back.” Handing her a card, he continued, “Please call me if you think of anything else, or hear from Dr. Donaldson.”
On the way back to Round Rock, Chambers asked Gonzales, “What do you make of it all?”
“Sounds to me like Mary Thomas and Donaldson may have been doing feasibility research for Hous-Tex in Burnet County,” said Gonzales.
“But why did Donaldson disappear?” asked Chambers. “And why did Mary Thomas end up dead in a snow bank in Lake Ridge?”
“Maybe Donaldson realized Hous-Tex had a winner this time and wanted to cash in before the word got out,” suggested Gonzales. “Maybe he was just using Mary, didn’t need her any longer, thought she knew too much, and disposed of her.”
“Or maybe she was about to expose him or Hous-Tex’s plans,” added Chambers. “I have to fly back to Virginia after lunch tomorrow. See if you can find out any more about Heart of Texas Development. Something tells me they are involved here.”
Gonzales dropped Chambers off in front of the church in Round Rock at 1:00. When Rebecca walked up the sidewalk from the church parking lot at 1:25, Chambers was standing there with his arms crossed and a stern look on his face.
Tapping his watch, Chambers said, “Well, you weren’t late.”
“Oh hush!” Rebecca said firmly.
As they walked into the church, Rebecca leaned close to Chambers and whispered, “Thanks for being here early.”
“You know the Lake Ridge Police,” responded Chambers, “we always aim to please.”
CHAPTER 14
As soon as he got to the station Monday morning, Chambers called the coroner’s office to let them know Mr. And Mrs. Thomas would be contacting them about Mary’s body.
“Talked to them Saturday,” said the Assistant Coroner. “Seem like real nice folks. We are making the final arrangements to transfer the body to a funeral home in Texas this morning.”
“Thanks,” Chambers said as he hung up.
Then he called Det. Miller and filled him in on what he had learned in Texas.
“Sounds like it was a productive wedding,” said Miller.
“Yes, as weddings go it wasn’t bad,” responded Chambers. “And the police won the hockey game without me. Did your men come up with anything else on Mary Thomas around the neighborhood?”
“No. Everyone we talked to said she was a nice girl, but nobody seemed to really know her that well. That’s how it is in Washington sometimes,” Miller said. “So many people moving in and out, most people just keep things light, don’t really take time to get very deep with anyone. Sad, but a fact of life in a city full of ‘Movers and Shakers.’”
“You might try showing her sketch around on The Hill or the Energy Department,” suggested Chambers. “Apparently, she and Donaldson spent some time both places. The Texas DMV is supposed to send us Donaldson’s driver’s license photo. I’ll send you a copy.”
“I’ll let you know if we turn up anything,” said Miller as they hung up.
“Det. Gonzales from Round and Rocky, TX, on line four for you,” said Jacobs.
“It’s Round Rock,” replied Chambers, “and send Det. Miller a copy of Donaldson’s photo as soon as we get it from the Texas DMV.
“Det. Chambers,” he said as he punched line four.
“James Gonzales from Round Rock,” Gonzales said. “I did some more checking on Hous-Tex Energy and Heart of Texas Development. Give you one guess who one of the major stockholders in Hous-Tex Energy is.”
“Anthony Donaldson?” ventured Chambers.
“Close,” said Gonzales. “It’s Heart of Texas Development. But guess who owns Heart of Texas?”
“Anthony Donaldson?” ventured Chambers again.
“And Mary Thomas,” replied Gonzales. “According to the County Tax Office, it seems they own it together. They have a few office staff and real estate brokers who’ve been doing the leg work, buying up the land for them, but they own the company.”
“Any forwarding addresses, bank accounts, etc. you could uncover?” inquired Chambers.
“A post office box and bank in the Cayman Islands,” said Gonzales.
“Logical,” said Chambers, “a foreign address and bank in a country where the U.S. has no extradition treaty.”
“These guys are good,” said Gonzales.
“Yeah,” commented Chambers, “almost too good. See if you can get a warrant to search Hous-Tex Energy’s files. Maybe there is some kind of memo, check receipt, etc. that will give us some helpful information.”
As he hung up the phone, he walked over to Jacobs’ desk. “Did we get that photo of Donaldson from Texas yet?” he asked.
“Right here,” Jacobs said as he handed Chambers a color photo of an average looking man in his late 40s, early 50s. “A few years old probably, but it is better than nothing. Already sent a copy to Det. Miller.”
“Good,” said Chambers. “Send a copy to all the area airports, train and bus stations, and rental car companies. Our Dr. Donaldson may try to leave the country. He may try to leave the area first though before boarding an international flight. Also, contact the Virginia and Maryland State Police. I want an All-Points Bulletin on this guy.”
“You got it,” said Jacobs as he picked up the phone and started dialing.
“Yes, you’re smart,” he said out loud to himself as he walked back to his desk, “but I hope you are not quite smart enough.”
CHAPTER 15
Rebecca knew she would need time to unpack and do laundry after their trip to Texas, so she had arranged to take Monday morning off. “How was Texas?” Denise greeted her as she walked into the social services office about 1:00.
“It was great,” replied Rebecca. “The wedding was beautiful, Bobby was on time for everything, and I got to spend some real quality time with my family. Was that Lucy Sanchez and Amanda I saw walking as I drove into the parking lot?”
“Yes,” said Denise. “Lucy brought Amanda in for a follow-up visit with Dr. Gold and stayed for the parenting class. She seemed to really enjoy it.”
“Victor didn’t come?” asked Rebecca.
“No, she said Victor had to work,” answered Denise. “She said he has to work a lot, but neither of them will ever say anything about what he does or where he works. I hope he’s not mixed up in anything illegal.”
“I know what you mean,” Rebecca sighed. “It is so hard for these young couple to make it sometimes. Then along comes some smooth-talking drug dealer or someone running an illegal gaming operation waving ‘easy money’ under their nose. Next thing they know, they are in too deep and don’t know how to get out. About all we can do is pray and try to be here for them when they need us.”
“I know,” Denise said as she stared out the window at the people passing on the sidewalk. “I just wish we could do more sometimes.”
“I know what you mean,” Rebecca said as she gave her friend a hug. “I know what you mean.”
CHAPTER 16
It was about 2:00 Monday afternoon when Bobby Chambers pulled up in front of Ellicott Manor Apartments in Occoquan. As he got out of his car he could feel the warmth of the sun on his face through the trees. He had enjoyed the warmer weather in Texas the past few days, but it felt good to get back to the colder weather he was used to in January.
As he approached the manager’s apartment, he saw her sweeping loose snow off some nearby steps. “Got to keep the snow cleared off these steps,” she remarked as Chambers walked up.
“Yes,” he said, “that is one of those never-ending tasks this time of year.” Shoveling snow is one chore he certainly would not miss if he ever moved to a warmer climate. “Ever seen this man?” Chambers asked as he held out the photo of Donaldson.
“Looks familiar,” said the manager, “but as I told you last week, I try to mind my own business as long as the rent stays paid and there are no complaints from the neighbors.”
“Mind if I take a look at who your tenant is?” asked Chambers. The manager was silent for a few moments. “You know, I can just get a subpoena,” he added. “But that would just take time and might let a killer get away.”
“Come on,” the manager said as she opened the door to her apartment and led the way inside. “As I told you, several of the apartments are leased to companies and politicians. I have no idea who is occupying them at this minute.”
As she handed him the sheet of paper, Chambers scanned down the list. “Just as I thought,” he said. There it was, apartment B-13, Hous-Tex Energy. “Can I look inside apartment B-13?” he asked.
“You know I can’t let you in one of the apartments without the occupant present or a search warrant,” scolded the manager.
“I know,” said Chambers, “but I had to ask. I’ll be back later this afternoon with a warrant,” he said as he left.
As soon as he got to his car he called Judge Roberts and explained what he needed and why. “Be in my courtroom at the Prince William County Government Complex in an hour,” Judge Roberts said.
Chambers immediately called Jacobs and told him to go pick up the search warrant and meet him at Ellicott Manor Apartments at 3:30.
As he drove the few blocks to Margie’s Waterfront Restaurant, Chambers wondered if they were too late. They had found Mary Thomas’s body a week ago. Was Donaldson already out of the country? He hoped and prayed something had delayed him.
“Hi, Detective,” Tom Higgins said as Chambers entered the restaurant. “You don’t have your wife with you, so you must not be here to buy her that expensive dinner.”
“Not today,” said Chambers. “Is Ben, the waiter who recognized my mystery woman, here today?”
“I think so,” said Higgins as he looked around. “Hey, Ben. Can you come over here a minute?”
As Ben walked up, Chambers showed him the photo of Donaldson. “Is this the man you saw with that young woman Saturday night before last?”
“Yeah,” said Ben studying the photo. “That’s him.”
“His name’s Anthony Donaldson,” Chambers said. “He’s a former college professor from Texas.”
“Let me see that,” said Higgins taking the photo. “I’ve seen this guy in here a few times. As a matter of fact, he had dinner here Friday night. I remember because he and the guy he was with insisted on eating on the porch overlooking the river. Nobody eats out there in January! But they insisted, said they would enjoy the peace and quiet. We were packed, so I agreed to seat them out there. Waited on the table myself. I couldn’t ask one of my staff to work out there in January.”
“Do you remember anything they said, see anything unusual?” asked Chambers.
“You are kidding,” laughed Higgins. “Nothing other than they insisted on eating out in the freezing weather. Every time I opened the door to go out on the porch, they both shut up tighter than a bear trap. I could see them talking away through the window, but as soon as the door opened, silence!”
“What did the other guy look like?” asked Chambers. “Did you recognize him?”
“Big guy. A little older maybe. Never seen him before,” said Higgins. “I think Donaldson called him ‘Al’ once.” After a moment he added, “He’s not from around here though. Had a bit of a southern, country sort of accent. Talked kind of like Roy Rogers, or John Wayne. You know, one of those cowboy types.”
“Give me a call if you remember anything else,” said Chambers as he left.
Jacobs and the manager were waiting when Chambers got back to Ellicott Manor. “Got the warrant?” Chambers asked as he got out of his car.
“Right here,” said Jacobs as he handed Chambers a folded piece of paper.
“OK then,” said Chambers as he turned toward the manager. “Apartment B-13 please.”
“Not a problem,” replied the manager as she walked up the short stairway and unlocked the door.
Chambers knew the manager was just doing her job. Her tenants were entitled to their rights to privacy and against unlawful search and seizure just like everyone else in America.
As they entered the apartment Chambers said, “Jacobs, you take the kitchen. I’ll start in the bedroom. We’ll meet back here and do the living room together. We’ll lockup and let you know when we are done,” Chambers told the manager.
As the manager excused herself, Jacobs and Chambers headed in opposite directions in the small apartment.
“Find anything?” Jacobs yelled after about five minutes.
“Maybe,” Chambers yelled back. “Found Mary Thomas’ purse. Not much in it, just her driver’s license, a little cash, and a few personal items.”
“No keys?” asked Jacobs as he walked into the room.
“No,” said Chambers. “Guess she didn’t keep them in her purse.”
“This was in the kitchen trash can,” Jacobs said as he handed Chambers a sheet of paper.
“It’s an internet airline reservation for an Anthony Donaldson and an Albert Johnson from Charlottesville, VA, to the Cayman Islands,” said Chambers.
“But how can that be? I didn’t think the Charlottesville airport was an international airport,” said Jacobs.
“It’s not,” said Chambers. “They have to change planes at Dulles International. But Donaldson is already past the ticket counter by the time he gets to Dulles. Sure, he still must pass through customs at Dulles, but they are looking for contraband, drugs, etc. He’s betting we won’t be looking for him on an incoming flight.”
“When does the flight leave?” asked Jacobs.
“It departs Charlottesville at 5:30 this evening,” said Chambers. “Arrives Dulles at 6:15, and departs for the Cayman Islands at 8:00.”
“It’s almost 5:00 now!” exclaimed Jacobs.
“So why are we standing here?” said Chambers as he headed for the door.
CHAPTER 17
They decided to take Jacobs’ patrol car in hopes the lights and siren would help them make better time. As Jacobs headed west on the Prince William Parkway, Chambers called the U.S. Customs Office and Airport Security at Dulles International to alert them to the situation. Then he called Det. Gonzales.
“Det. Gonzales, Round Rock Police.”
“Hey, James,” said Chambers, “it’s Bobby Chambers from Virginia. Ever heard of an Albert Johnson?”
“Big Al Johnson,” responded Gonzales. “He’s the CEO of Hous-Tex. Played football for Texas Tech back in the late ‘60s. Worked summers as a roughneck in the West Texas oil fields. He helped start Hous-Tex about 20 years ago. Not the brightest bulb on the tree, but not the dimmest either. Known more for his temper than anything else.”
Chambers quickly filled Gonzales in on what they had found.
“I’ll do a little checking down here and call you back,” said Gonzales. “I’ll also try to get you a photo of Johnson.”
It was 6:00 when they parked at the international terminal at Dulles Airport. The Customs supervisor on duty greeted them as they got out of the car.
“We have alerted all the luggage inspectors and other ground staff,” said the supervisor. “They’ve all been told to be on the watch out for someone named Anthony Donaldson, Albert Johnson, A. Donaldson, etc.”
“Here’s a photo of Donaldson,” said Chambers as he handed it to the supervisor. “We don’t have one of Johnson yet.”
Chambers and Jacobs took a position near the arrival gate of the flight from Charlottesville. They were hoping they could spot and apprehend Donaldson and Johnson before they even got to Customs.
As the passengers slowly made their way off the plane and walked toward the door to Customs, Chambers and Jacobs studied every man’s face as they passed. After about 20 minutes, the parade of passengers ended.
Chambers approached the gate attendant and inquired, “Are all the passengers off this flight?”
“Yes,” said the attendant. “Nobody left but the crew.”
“I was supposed to meet two men,” said Chambers. “Anthony Donaldson and Albert Johnson.”
The attendant checked the passenger log. “It seems Mr. Donaldson and Mr. Johnson missed the flight.” said the attendant. “They never arrived at the gate in Charlottesville.”
Chambers looked at Jacobs with a mixture of confusion and anger in his tired eyes. “What could have happened to them?” he said. “Was the internet reservation just a plan to throw us off the trail?”
“Like I said before,” replied Jacobs, “they are good.”
CHAPTER 18
Tuesday morning broke cold and crisp in Lake Ridge. “It’s a good day to solve a murder,” Chambers told Jacobs as he walked past his desk. Jacobs nodded in agreement.
His phone was ringing when Chambers got to his desk. “Det. Chambers,” he said as he picked it up.
“Morning, Bobby,” Det. Miller said. “You’ll never guess whose apartment was ransacked last night.”
“Mary Thomas’,” Chambers guessed.
“Ding-ding-ding,” replied Miller, “you win the prize. The apartment manager called about 7:00 this morning. He noticed the door open a little when he went down to get a newspaper. He immediately called the police.”
“Anything taken?” asked Chambers.
“Not that we can tell,” answered Miller. “Only thing I can figure they would have been after is those reports and the map you took with you. Also, no sign of forced entry either. Whoever it was had a key.”
“That would explain where Donaldson and Johnson were last night,” Chambers said. “And, why Mary Thomas’ keys were not in her purse.” He filled Miller in on the results of his search of the Occoquan apartment and the stake out at the airport.
“Sounds like our ‘Dynamic Duo’ is still in town,” said Miller.
“Would seem so,” laughed Chambers as he hung up the phone. “Keep me posted.”
Chambers wasn’t sure if he felt more upset they hadn’t caught Donaldson and Johnson, or glad to know for sure they were still in the country.
About 11:00 the phone rang again. “Det. Chambers,” he said as he answered.
“James Gonzales,” came the voice. “I heard about the airport last night. Talked to Sergeant Jacobs earlier this morning. Just sent you a photo I got from Hous-Tex of Big Al Johnson. Also, I talked to his secretary this morning. She said Big Al has been in Washington on business the last two weeks, and that he is on vacation this week and next week. Not expected back until February 1st.”
“Two weeks should be long enough to disappear,” Chambers said.
“Something else I think you will find interesting,” continued Gonzales. “I mentioned the apartment in Virginia to Johnson’s secretary. She said Big Al told her before he left to contact the folks who own the building and cancel the lease effective the end of March. Said they would not be needing it any longer.”
“That is interesting,” remarked Chambers. “Sounds like Mr. Johnson is certainly trying to tie up loose ends.”
“One more thing,” Gonzales said, “Got a call from Jim Thomas, Mary’s father. Seems a check was delivered to them by FedEx late yesterday for $1 million. No return address, just a note that said, ‘So sorry.’ It was drawn on Heart of Texas’ bank account in the Cayman Islands.”
“Sounds like at least someone involved in this has a little remorse,” said Chambers.
“I’ll stay in touch,” said Gonzales as they hung up the phone.
“You’ll probably find this interesting,” said Jacobs as he sat down next to Chamber’s desk. “I called a guy I know from church who works at the Energy Department. Asked him to do some checking on Hous-Tex’s proposal for the nuclear plant and dam in Burnet County, TX. He just called me back and said the department had unofficially approved the plan the first week of January. He said they mailed the official approval to Hous-Tex and put out a press release about it yesterday.”
“So,” said Chambers, “Hous-Tex finally had a winner after all these years.”
“And what a winner!” Jacobs said. “I called the police retirement fund’s stockbroker; Hous-Tex stock has gone up 500% in the past 24 hours.”
“Not to mention the value of the ‘soon to be’ lake front property in Burnet County, TX,” added Chambers.
CHAPTER 19
Chamber was exhausted. The past week had really taken its toll on him. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he told Jacobs as he left for the day.
Arriving home, he crashed on the sofa as Rebecca finished getting dinner ready. He hardly noticed the phone when it rang about 6:30.
“It’s for you,” Rebecca shouted from the kitchen. “It’s Sergeant Jacobs.”
Chambers picked up the living room extension. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Just got a call from Tom Higgins at Margie’s,” said Jacobs excitedly. “Donaldson picked up a ‘to go’ order a few minutes ago!”
Chambers jumped up. “Meet me at Margie’s in 15 minutes,” he said. “And bring backup.”
Hanging up the phone he called to Rebecca, “Donaldson was just spotted at Margie’s. Go ahead and eat without me,” he said as he ran out the door.
By the time he got to the restaurant, Jacobs was already there. “I tried to stall him as long as I could,” said Higgins as Chambers walked in. “Came in about 30 minutes ago and picked up two meals to go. He had called ahead, so they were almost ready when he got here. I had Ben follow him. He went to Ellicott Manor.”
“I already called and requested every available officer,” said Jacobs as he and Chambers headed for the door.
Chambers and Jacobs pulled up behind four patrol cars parked on Commerce St., around the corner from Ellicott Manor. “Jones, you and Taylor cover the front of the complex; Adams, you and Williams cover the north side; Franklin and Maddox take the West; Thompson and Andrews, you got the east,” directed Chambers. “Jacobs and I will knock on the door. Remember, we want these guys alive, but don’t take any chances.”
“Right!” they all said as they scattered.
As soon as everyone was in position, Chambers and Jacobs made their way up the stairs to the door of the apartment. Standing on either side of the door with guns drawn, Chambers reached over and knocked.
“Who is it?” came a man’s voice from inside.
“Lake Ridge Police Department,” replied Chambers.
Suddenly there was loud scurrying from inside the apartment and a shot came through the front door.
“Give it up Donaldson,” shouted Chambers. “We got you surrounded.”
“I didn’t kill anybody,” came the same man’s voice from inside the apartment.
“Shut up, you fool,” came another voice.
Chambers used the brief argument to kick the door in. He and Jacobs dove inside the apartment. “I didn’t kill anyone,” said a man about 50 as he stepped out of the kitchen with his hands up. “It was Big Al,” he said.
Suddenly, two shots rang out. One from the bedroom and one from the chair Jacobs was crouched down behind. The man from the kitchen fell to the floor clutching his arm. As Chambers darted over to him, he saw another man lying on the floor of the bedroom.
From his spot behind the chair, Jacobs had seen the man in the bedroom step into the doorway and fire at the man from the kitchen. He had immediately returned fire, striking him square in the chest.
“Anthony Donaldson,” said Chambers, as he began reading Donaldson his rights. “you’re under arrest for the murder of Mary Thomas.”
“I didn’t do it,” protested Donaldson again. “Like I said, it was Big Al. He found out about Heart of Texas Development and demanded Mary and I cut him in. He and Mary argued, and next thing I knew, he was choking her.”
“Well,” said Jacobs emerging from the bedroom, “you won’t have to worry about ‘Big Al’ anymore. He’s dead.”
“Whose idea was it to put the body in the snow bank?” asked Chambers.
“That was my idea,” said Donaldson. “We put her in her car and drove it to the commuter lot. Big Al said to just lay her beside the car like she was mugged. I thought of the snowbank. I figured it would be weeks before anyone found her. By then we would be in the Cayman Islands.”
“So why weren’t you on that flight from Charlottesville last night?” asked Jacobs.
“It suddenly occurred to us that without my feasibility research,” said Donaldson, “Hous-Tex would not be able to go forward with the project. Best case scenario, they would have another study done, but that would delay the project months or even years.”
“What about the $1 million check to Mary’s parents?” asked Chambers.
“I called the bank in the Cayman Islands and had them send it,” said Donaldson. “I know Mary would have wanted them to have it.”
“What they want is their daughter back,” said Chambers. “Let’s get an ambulance and the morgue in here. Anthony Donaldson, you’re under arrest for accessory to murder, and fraud. I suspect the Federal prosecutor will be adding to that list though.”
As they watched the ambulance drive away with Donaldson, Chambers said to Jacobs, “I told you it was a good day to solve a murder.”
“Are there any bad ones?” retorted Jacobs.
“No!” said Chambers. “They’re all good days when you solve a case like this!”
CHAPTER 20
“I’ll be ready in a minute,” Rebecca called from the bedroom.
Chambers was in no hurry as he sat on the sofa reflecting on the day. Although he had slept late that morning, he was still a little drained from the past week’s activities.
Donaldson’s wound had been minor, and he was released from Prince William Hospital that morning. After booking him into the Lake Ridge Jail, Chambers had called James Gonzales and Mr. And Mrs. Thomas in Round Rock, TX, to update them on last night’s events.
“Thank you so much for calling,” said Mrs. Thomas as he finished the story. “I’m sorry someone else had to be killed, but it is good to know what happened and that you caught the people responsible.”
“I promised you I would stay in touch, “Chambers said. “I guess Mary’s share of Heart of Texas Development will go to you now.”
“Our lawyer has advised us to wait until the Federal Trade Commission and the Texas Attorney General’s Office finish their investigations before we spend any of the money,” said Mr. Thomas. “We will probably give most of it to the local Children’s Home or some other charity anyway.”
“I think Mary would like that,” Chambers said as he hung up the phone.
Next, he called the Center for Energy Economics at the University of Texas. “We’ll need to keep the originals as evidence for a while,” Chambers told Ms. Kline, “but I have already given instructions for a copy of all the technical reports and the map be sent to you. You should have them in a few days.”
“That’s great!” exclaimed Ms. Kline. “What will happen to Dr. Donaldson?”
“That’s for a jury to decide,” said Chambers, “but I suspect the only studies he will be doing for a while will be of the inside of a jail cell.”
After lunch, he had walked over to the Coroner’s Office to be sure they had all the information they needed for contacting the folks at Hous-Tex about Albert Johnson’s body. The Assistant Coroner had mumbled something about “wishing all these Texans would quit getting killed in his county.”
Now he and Rebecca were meeting Miller, Jacobs, and their wives at Margie’s Waterfront for dinner.
“Welcome,” Tom Higgins said as they all walked in. “I have your table on the porch all ready for you. Just kidding,” he added after a moment. “I did put you over by the window so you can see the river though.”
As he seated them, he said, “Ben, your waiter will be with you in a moment. Enjoy your evening.”
“Thanks, Tom,” Chambers said. “It is nice to be here for pleasure this time.”
As they ate their dessert, Det. Miller’s wife, Janet, asked, “One thing I don’t understand, why didn’t Mary Thomas’s fingerprints show up when you ran them?”
“She had never been in trouble with the law and was not a federal employee,” said Jacobs. “Technically, she was not even employed. She and Donaldson were living off the money they had already stashed away in the Cayman Islands.”
“Fascinating,” remarked Janet Miller.
“Check please,” Chambers said as Ben brought them drink refills.
“It’s on the house,” said Higgins as he walked up, “If you promise me I won’t have to serve any more criminals on the porch in January.”
“I’ll do my part,” Chambers said as they all laughed.