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“He said he’s standing outside your house right now.”
CHAPTER
55
KELLY PAUL LOWERED her binoculars and studied the immediate landscape as afternoon fell away into evening in eastern Maine. She had a pad and pen. She made some notes: numbers, locations of things, degrees on the compass, obstacles, and possible advantages. She looked out to the ocean. The water was calm today. Cutter’s Rock didn’t seem nearly as intimidating from this heightened angle.
She lifted the binoculars once more as the van passed through security and arrived at the front doors to the facility. She adjusted the magnification and studied the writing on the side of the van. Cutter’s must be having an issue with their power system, she concluded. And these gents were here to fix it. They were inside for nearly two hours and then did some work at a second, far smaller building behind the main facility. Later, they came out, put their equipment in the van, and drove away.
Paul lowered her optics when the van passed from sight.
The federal facility, she concluded, was an onion with layers that needed to be peeled away. After Sean had told her about it Paul had had Michelle tell her in detail about the other pair of eyes she’d seen on Cutter’s. She had given Paul the approximate location of these eyes. That was why she was here, to see it for herself. It was a good observation point. She could understand why they had chosen it.
She looked down at the facility plans in her hands. They had been hard to come by. But she had built up many favors over the years and could think of no better reason to use them. She had also learned that Cutter’s Rock had gotten a new director to replace the deceased Carla Dukes. She was certain that this new person had been as carefully selected as the last one, perhaps even more so. She wrote other things down and then used her cell phone to make some calls. She had suspected certain tactical actions were in the works, and her observations today had confirmed that. She needed help. With these phone calls she cashed in more favors and got the assets she needed. It was proof of the work that she had done in the field over the last two decades that not a single person said no, or even questioned why she wanted to do this.
She put the phone away, retraced her steps, and got back in her rental. The drive back to Machias was quick but it still gave her precious time to think. She found Megan Riley in the front parlor at the inn. Megan had her laptop, notepads, and legal documents spread out in front of her on a wide, oval table that Mrs. Burke had allowed her to use as a makeshift desk. She sat down across from her.
“Being productive?” she asked.
Megan bit on the end of her pen and looked up at the woman. “Depends on how you define productive.”
“Making progress?”
“Marginally. It’s not easy.”
“Hard things in life are, de facto, never easy.”
“Sean and Michelle are gone again.”
“I know.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Or you won’t tell me.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because you all think I’m a baby lawyer who will screw stuff up.”
“You are and you might.”
“Thanks. Thanks for all the support.”
“You earn support.”
“I’m doing the best that I can.”
“Are you absolutely sure about that?”
“Are you always this rude?”
“You haven’t yet seen me be rude. When I am it’s unmistakable.”
“I want to be in the loop on everything.”
“Again, you have to earn that right.”
