Chap. 48 – We all Learn too Much about Everything

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Chapter 48

We all Learn Way Too Much about Everything

     On Friday Huck called us at Phyllis’ saying he’d arrived in Westport and it was a huge compound his musician buddy had: swimming pool, clay tennis courts, a recording studio.  “They even say Ringo Starr slept here once.  And the main house is painted Pink – pink in honor of The Band – remember ‘Big Pink’ the house they had? You all are welcome anytime.  When are you guys headin’ up?” he asked.  “And Rocky, good ‘ol ‘What is Fun’ Rocky – you should get back in touch with Tex and Austin, they might want to come up for what’s gonna be a really fun New Year’s Eve party!”

     “Not sure at this point,” Max replied.   “Might be a day or two.  Steve and Phyllis seem to be enjoying being back together.  We’ll keep you posted.” 

     Sleuth Susie also called us at Phyllis’ with breaking news: “Say Rocky, you Doubting Thomas, my kid – I told ya he was a good kid – my kid Joey does have a name for you.  The name is ‘Shadya Warsame’ and Joey has been in touch with him . . . Warsame admits being a partner with Abdul in a sex ring, but, after Abdul was shot dead, he backed out and hasn’t been in the business for months.  Joey says his guy Shadya has heard of Dougherty, but can’t remember meeting him.” 

    “Did you tell Joey about the baseball stadium bombing connection?”  Skip asked Susie.

     “Yeah, Joey’s one-thousand percent up to speed.  Wants to know who all Gordy and Ken know for connections in Vancouver – wants to get some leverage to use on Shadya that implicates him in the sex-trafficking, or maybe a tie-in with the jihadi scene.  So far Shadya claims to know nothing about the terrorism aspect. That makes sense – it’s the Syrians that are behind the jihadists.”

     Without letting Susie overhear, Rocky whispered to us, “Does Susie know about the New York City deal?”  Skip shook his head “no.”  “Keep that from her,” Rocky said.

     When Steve and Phyllis went out for a late lunch, Max, Rocky and Skip decided it was time to get Steve involved, but just on the legal aspects – talking hypotheticals.

     Arriving back, Phyllis wise-cracked, “What’ll it be for dinner, boys, nothing I love more than a house full of men – too many ladies getting elected these days for me to work the legislature like I use to.”

     “Ever been married?” Rocky asked.

     “No, too much fun not being married,” Phyllis replied.  “Any of you guys recommend it?”

     “Hmm,” we all thought, but Steve savvily said, “When you meet the right lady, keep it great as long as you can, and Phyllis, you’ve always seemed ‘right lady material’ to me.”

     “Thanks pal, I’m over the hill . . . but you stick around, you might find out what not being married feels like.  Are any of those others coming back?”

     Just before sitting down to Phyllis’ home-made meatloaf supper, in the hallway Rocky whispered to Steve: “Keep it going with Phyllis, man. That was a great line you used on her. She doesn’t look more than 50.  Curly blond hair, you’ve always liked blonds.  Nice shape, good sense of humor. too.  But listen, there’s something we’ve got to talk about – things are not good with Skip.

     “I thought so,” Steve replied.  “He just hasn’t seemed himself.  What’s up?”

      “Well, it’s a legal matter – client confidentiality stuff – so you’ve got to excuse yourself from Phyllis for an hour or two.  Later tonight we’ll meet at the pub down the corner.  After supper, we’ll leave you two alone for a bit.  Help with the dishes, see if she wants some kisses, and then get away and come meet us.”

     What the heck have these guys done now, Steve wondered, but Rocky’s right – priorities.

——————————————————————————————————————-

     Both the conversation at the corner bar and what transpired on Phyllis’ couch before the bar, were the first topics that came up when the Land Yacht left Philadelphia the next day, traveling north on I-95 and the New Jersey Turnpike towards where Huck was staying in Westport, Connecticut.  Patty and Sally were happy for Steve, saying they’d heard enough, but not so happy hearing about what was discussed at the bar.

Max summarized it all saying, “Look, we’re trusting Lisa and Ken on this – I’ve known both of them for 40 years. Ken has known this guy named Gordy for 40 years as well. They’re friends and Ken says Gordy can be trusted. Gordy was in the SLA back in the 70s and had a girlfriend named Jane, also in the SLA with him. Jane moved on and is now in Vancouver as part of a terrorist group up there, but she wants to get out and has enlisted Gordy to help her. Only thing is – she’s sticking around long enough to get the scoop on their next planned attack so we can head it off before it happens.”

     “That’s it,” Sally exclaimed.  “So WE can head it off! Drop me at the Newark airport – I’m flying back tonight.  Max, I’ll see you back in Minnesota – if you’re not dead or in jail.” 

     “Look,” Max implored, “We’ve enlisted Steve to save us all from going to jail. Steve has already been in touch with the Constitutional Rights Center, here in Newark, and we’re meeting with them Monday morning.  After that, if you want to take a cab to the airport, I’ll understand – and maybe a few of us will join you.”  

Chap. 47 – An Unholy Trinity

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Chapter 47

An Unholy Trinity

     By the time we reached Skip’s sister’s place, the weather had changed – for the better, mild and sunny.  “The Herbery” is in the Appalachian foothills between Staunton and Lexington, Virginia, a little west of Interstate 81.  Skip’s sister, Jancis (“call me Jan”) showed us around – “that’s Jump Mountain over there.  And just beyond that, White Sulphur Springs, where Sam Snead was the golf pro, and FDR used to sneak off to.”  We admired Jan’s gardens, herbs and plants, stretching over 30 acres, and then took a walk down to the pond, with a creek flowing into it, and tiny cascading waterfalls coming down a series of rocky ledges, like steps.  There, at a picnic table, we were greeted by Jan’s husband, Pete, with a cooler, ice, limes, and a bottle of gin.

     “Skip says gin is the Rumpkins’ consensus favorite, but there’s beer and wine if you prefer.  Glad you made it.  Jan’s been showing me trip highlights – some close calls, ehh?”

     Steve was glad to see Jan seemed perfectly healthy, but made a note to himself to press Skip again about why he seemed so anxious and preoccupied, not like Skip at all.

     Patty asked Jancis (what a pretty name, she said), “Tell us some stories growing up with your brother – should I turn the camera on?”

     “Oh, Skip’s such a good storyteller, I’m sure you’ve heard all this already,” Jan replied.

     “No, tell more!”  we all said.

      So the afternoon was pleasantly spent learning the name of the family cat [Purry], the family dog [Leifka, Dutch for “My Love”], the time that Skip ran away from home for one night, and so on towards dusk. 

     Skip ended the time at the pond saying he was for calling it an early night, and told Jan and Pete we’d all be leaving the next day – which sort of surprised some, but not all, of us. Patty and Sally, still unaware of the dangers lurking, prevailed upon Skip to spend another day at his sister’s. “This is a fabulous place,” Sally said, and Patty followed with “Your sister and Pete are some of the nicest people we’ve met on this whole trip.” Huck said, “Yeah Skip, we’re only a day or two away from New York City, and I’ve got plenty of time to get up to Westport and get things set for New Years Eve.”

     On Interstate 81 the following morning heading north towards Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, Steve started telling us about this old girlfriend he had on the list.  Patty whispered to Sally, “Can you believe all these old girlfriends these guys have?  And Skip, still such an enigma.  We sure didn’t get much out of his sister.  I know he’s had girlfriends, even for months, but never a steady that I know of.”

      “Don’t know if she’s in Harrisburg or Philadelphia this week,” Steve said, twitching his moustache, “but I just texted her.  Go north and we’ll end up one place or the other.  If it’s Harrisburg, that’s the State Capitol – where she works – and we should have time to scout out the local Yang Gang.”    

     When Skip didn’t jump in with “Great idea,” or something, and instead just let the remark pass, Steve made another mental note to get to the bottom of what was going on.    

     At the first rest stop, Rocky took Skip aside saying, “You and I have been friends a long time.  I’ve been doing some soul searching.  I can’t go along with you on this.  Two things I need to know ASAP, like right now, or me and Max are out of the ‘1,000 percent thing.’  First, why did that bomb at Dodger Stadium go off where it did – and who was in on the planning?  Second, what the heck is the plan for New York City – how is that going to be headed off?  Max says Lisa doesn’t have a clue.”

     “Well today is December 14 and we’ve got sixteen – seventeen days, before the shit hits the fan.  I checked back with Susie and asked her if Dougherty and Furbush were still in town.  She hadn’t seen either of them for several days.  I asked her if there was any chance Joey could be part of the terrorist thing.  ‘No,’ she told me.  ‘Joey’s a thousand percent with us on this,’ her words, not mine.  Apparently, Joey decided his mom was in too deep and told her just to lay low and he was going to figure the god-damn thing out for her.”

     “Okay, then what’s the other fucking name?  Joey knows it.  Why hasn’t he coughed it up?”

     “Good question.  I’ll press Susie to get it.  Give me just two days to get you some answers, then if you jump ship, we’re still buds and I don’t give a rip what Ken thinks of me for turning him in,” Skip said.  “But maybe Lisa would prefer we at least try to save Ken’s ass first.”

—————————————————————————————————————–

     Turns out Steve’s ex-girlfriend, Phyllis, has an apartment in Harrisburg for when the legislature meets, but otherwise mostly lives in Philly, so Philadelphia is where we headed the Land Yacht.  Nobody spoke on behalf of a detour through Harrisburg to do some Rumpkin organizing.  In fact, no one was even talking about a next Rump Session.  And Patty had been doing zero blogging.  Weird, Steve thought.

     Phyllis has been into local politics all her life, growing up in Germantown and eventually becoming an aide to a long-time state senator.  She said she had the week off, but wasn’t sure where we could stay.  Huck then convinced us to take up a collection so he could rent a car and go off to visit his musician buddies, the New Year’s Eve Party planners.  “Besides, we’ll need a car getting around New York City – the Land Yacht will find most streets impassable.”

     Patty found a place in Philly calling up a friend she knew from the youth conference she’d been to, and got Sally invited along.  This left Steve, Skip, Rocky and Max to stay with Phyllis.  Phyllis said she could handle four of us, “but park that Land Yacht as far from my house as you can.”

     The next morning, Steve and Phyllis took off for the Rodin Museum, “the best museum in the world,” according to Phyllis, “because it’s small enough to see everything in half a day,” Skip, Rocky and Max had Phyllis’ place to themselves.  It quickly became “amateur detective hour,” as Rocky put it, adding “We’ve also got to know more about the jihadi connection.”

     We used Phyllis’ sophisticated phone system to get Lisa on the line with all three of us, and then the four of us placed a call to Ken, basically to put the screws to him: “Here are our questions.  Either answers today, or tomorrow we’re not 100 percenters anymore.”  All we got was his voice mail.  Rather than twiddling our thumbs, we put a list together for the FBI of everything we knew – or didn’t know.

     When Ken called back, Lisa played the good cop role: “Look Ken, I think I can keep Max, Skip and Rocky on board with your plan.  But I agree with them it’s time to start planning your safe way out of this mess, and to hell with the others.  So, what gives?”

     Ken said he hadn’t slept much for the past three nights and appreciated our thinking of him first: “So yeah, I’ve been thinking about the same things, and told Gordy, ‘You may have been in the SLA, but I wasn’t, and I’m not joining now.’  Told him if he went to the cops now with my Sacramento lawyer buddy, probably he could work a deal to turn state’s evidence and be the hero.”

     Ken continued: “But Gordy said, ‘We’ve got to save Jane’s ass as well – she’s been on the good side for a while now – Jane’s the one who made sure nobody got killed by the bomb going off at the Dodgers’ game. In fact, Gordy told me it was Jane who actually brought the bomb to Dodger Stadium.”

     “Jesus,” Lisa said, “go on.”

     Ken continued: “In fact, Gordy says he and Jane worked up that plan together – to just strike fear, not kill anybody, but he wanted to warn me off – just in case.  At any rate, Jane plans to stay tight with Rafferty, aka Dougherty, right up to the moment she has all the details about the next planned attack, and then Gordy has the plan to get Jane somewhere safe, just when we expose the whole operation.  Seems clear, Jane is looking at doing a stretch in prison for what she’s already done.”

     “One more thing,” Ken said.  “While Jane and Rafferty/Dougherty were doing some of their original scheming together, before any of the Syrians got involved, they started calling themselves ‘Jihadi Jamie and Jane,’ and came up with the genius idea to lay the blame for everything they did at the doorstep of the jihadis as a way to cover their own tracks.  Then, and get this, the jihadis actually found them, and having checked into their backgrounds, figured them to be true revolutionaries against the American way of life.  The birth of the Dodger stadium idea followed.  Jane says it was more like the jihadis recruited them, to get them involved with their plots – and that’s when she started getting cold feet.”

     “What a friggin’ unholy trinity,” Rocky said, “the SLA, the Proud Boys, and the Jihadis!”

     “Don’t forget sex trafficking too,” Lisa said.

      “This is front page all over the world,” Max said.

     “We’ve got to get Steve involved, he’ll know the lawyer angle for Jane,” Skip said.

Chap. 46 – A Bombshell! We Learn about the Next Planned Bombing

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Chapter 46

A Bombshell !  We Learn About the Next Planned Bombing

     Back on the Land Yacht, finally out of the Carolinas and into Virginia, Max walked up to the front of the bus and sat on the console between Skip and Rocky.  “The pieces are starting to fall in place,” he said quietly.  “It’s starting to make sense.  Lisa just called.  I called her back, in private, back at that truck stop in Winston-Salem.  All I did was listen.  First, Dougherty is not the guy’s real name; it’s Rafferty, Jamie Rafferty.  Second, that guy you stayed with in Sacramento, Skip – the former SLA guy, Gordy Ettinger – well he had a girlfriend in the SLA, first name of Jane – that’s all I know so far, no last name yet – who is now Dougherty’s girlfriend– make that Rafferty’s – and she’s the insider who tipped Gordy off about the Dodger Stadium bombing! . . . which led to you getting tipped-off.  Wonder what she thinks about her guy hustling Susie back in Boulder.”

     “Wow!” Rocky broke in, trying to be quiet.  “We got everything we need.  What’s the plan for telling the FBI all this?”

     “Well, here’s the bombshell,” Max whispered, “Lisa’s on board with not going to the authorities just yet – wants to give her brother and Gordy a chance to help Jane get away from Rafferty’s clutches.  Once you hear this, it’ll make you both, me, my exes Lisa and Ken, all hundred percent complicit in whatever goes down . . .”

     “Max,” Skip said softly.  “It was me who first brought you into this.  I’m sorry about that.  We’re all in this a thousand percent.  We’ll figure it out.  What else did you find out?”

     “. . .  the even bigger deal you said might be in the works?” . . .  Max continues in a way we can hardly hear him. “. . . Well, Lisa says the plan is to bust these terrorists before it goes down, but they’re talking about bombing Times Square on New Year’s Eve!  And Lisa says we have to sit still, keep this to ourselves, and let Ken and Gordy head it off.  It’s out of our hands.”

     “No!” Rocky interjects.  “We’re supposed to just twiddle our thumbs?!  We’re on our way to New York City.  We could be there on New Year’s Eve.  We’re counting on an old SLA guy, and a Hollywood gigolo, to stop an impending terrorist attack?!  Rather than the FBI?!  Suppose it’s all dis-information.  Today we hear it’s gonna be Times Square on New Year’s Eve, but who knows, by tomorrow they could have changed plans, and while we’re doing nothing about it, they’re deciding to bring down the Empire State Building on Christmas Day, or before.

     “Wouldn’t that be ironic, Skip?  You’re in the elevator on your way to the observation deck at the top of the Empire State Building, and you get a call, like the call you got on your way to the Dodgers’ game, but this time the caller says, ‘Sorry sucker, the bomb’s going off in 30 seconds.’ 

     “When we get to your sister’s in Lexington,” Rocky finished, “we stick to our plan to get the authorities in on the sex trafficking part of the puzzle, and that might stop their terrorist attack as well.”

     “Good luck with that, given the current sheriff in Boulder,” Max pointed out.  

     Skip said it might be time to bring lawyer Steve current with everything going on.  “What would a court of law say about us?  Are we partners in crime, or are we the good guys here?  Yeah, we got some information – that may or may not be enough to bring down a criminal enterprise . . .  Max, I say we go along with your ex and her brother . . . let Ken pull the trigger on going to the authorities.  I think our lawyer will tell us that not going to the authorities with what we already know is legit if we’re doing it to stop a much larger harm from happening.” 

     “Good luck with that,” Rocky cackled, “when that StarTribune reporter asks why you kept it to yourself – with hundreds dead or dying on the streets of New York.”

Chap. 45 – We Learn Whom Gordy’s “Insider” Is

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Chapter 45

We Learn Whom Gordy’s “Insider” Is 

     On the last day of our drive to visit Skip’s sister, driving north on Interstate 77 through the Carolinas, the weather unpleasant, the windshield wipers on then off, Rocky did most of the driving and Skip spent a good amount of time in the navigator’s seat, occasionally talking on his cell phone.  Everyone else was reading or snoozing.  Back in California, Ken had been on his phone talking with Lisa (his sister back in Minnesota) and meeting-up with Gordy (his buddy – who had warned him away from going to that Dodgers game).

     Skip, holding his baseball cap by the side of his mouth to keep anyone in back from overhearing, whispered across the driver’s console to Rocky: “That was Ken I was just on the phone with.  Says he’s talked with Lisa and Gordy, and they are both on board with our plan to go to the authorities to break-up the sex ring.  Says he’s ready to tell us everything, but only if I promise not to go to the authorities unless it’s absolutely necessary – but even then not until he okays it first.  Says Lisa is going to call Max and let Max know we can hold off on going to the authorities a bit longer.”

     “Tell him you promise not to go to the authorities without asking first,” Rocky said.

——————————————————————————————————————-

     Back in California, Ken had had a heart-to-heart with Gordy.  They met at a park in front of the state capitol building, not far from Gordy’s Sacramento apartment where Skip had stayed while the Land Yacht was getting its make-over.  It was the third overcast day in a row, so much for sunny California weather.  The temperature was in the low-50s.  Ken had his bomber jacket on. 

     Sitting on a park bench, waiting for Gordy to show up, gazing at the Capitol dome, Ken smiled to himself thinking about the thin line between inside and outside politics.  Here he was waiting to meet with a 1970s revolutionary, who once had picked up the gun as the way to bring about political change, and now was working as a double agent to stop bombings and chaos from being the way to bring about political change. 

     Turning sad, he started thinking about his buddy, Tom Hayden, now deceased.  Tom had also been a 1970s revolutionary, married to Jane Fonda, famous for going to Hanoi during the Viet Nam War to stick up for Ho Chi Minh.  Tom eventually chose the inside route as the way to bring about political change, serving 20 years as a legislator (inside the very dome he was staring at). 

     Then his thoughts wandered to his new buddy, Skip, who like Hayden had chosen the inside route as the way to bring about change, but was now on to a sort of hybrid strategy holding mock elections outside to bring about a revolution inside.

     Abruptly his daydreaming came to an end.  It was Gordy’s voice, “Hey Bro’, whassup?”

Ken (talking):

     “We got a problem, Brother.  Somehow my sister has it that Rafferty is into sex-trafficking.  She’s calling him “Dougherty” – or “Dough-Boy.”  So, so far, she doesn’t know that’s an assumed name.  But what the fuck, man.  Really, sex trafficking?  You know anything about that?  She says she’s going to the cops with what she knows unless we have a solid plan for putting all this shit to a quick end.  She wants to know the plan by this time tomorrow – else I don’t think I can stop her.”

Gordy:

     “Well, I already told you, I’m getting my informant out of this before I enlist any law enforcement effort, and your sister needs to understand my informant has to stay inside until we get the dope on whatever is being planned next.  Tell your sister the sex-trafficking is brand new – which is true – I only learned about it recently.  In fact, that’s what got my informant to finally cross-over.  Tell your sister it’s going to require a little patience before we have the goods to put these guys behind bars, probably for life.”

Ken:

     “I’ve already explained all that to her.  Maybe it would help if you told me who your informant is, what’s the plan the two of you have, and how sex-trafficking became part of the deal.”

Gordy:

      “I’ll share the name with you, but your sister only finds out after she promises to let me call the shot on when we bring the cops in.”

Ken:

     “Deal.”

Gordy:

     “I don’t think you ever met her, but while I was in prison, I had a girlfriend, name of Jane.  They even allowed conjugal visits.  Jane was in the SLA with me, but was never caught or implicated.  And like you know, Rafferty was my cellmate.  Well, he got to know Jane too.  After I got out, I pretty much quit seeing Jane – just stayed in touch a little bit.  But after Rafferty got out, he started seeing Jane.  Eventually Rafferty found his way to Canada, took up an assumed identity as ‘John Dougherty’, and joined a posse comitatus.  That fit with how I knew the guy.  As cellmates we often talked about sharing an anti-government sentiment and he kept lots of ‘posse-type’ reading material.

     “Next time I hear from Jane, she had joined Rafferty up in Vancouver.  Apparently, he had convinced her that her SLA days didn’t need to be over.  Mostly she described it as a ‘Let’s Not Pay Taxes’ kind of group, sitting around dreaming up outlandish plots that she never expected them to pull off.  

     “Well, that was until the Dodger Stadium bombing.  At first Jane thought it was just another wild idea, but then it was actually going to happen!  Apparently, she has the complete trust of those around her – she even agreed to be the carrier.   By then the group had added some new recruits, real terrorist types, and she realized they were deadly serious.  That’s when she got wind that these new guys, Syrians, were raising money for their terrorist operations by bringing young girls from Thailand to Canada and the United States to sell into the sex trade, so she made the decision to get out and started talking to me about how and when.”

Chap. 44 – Who is John Dougherty?

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Chapter 44

Who is John Dougherty?

      On a Saturday morning, after thanking Uncle Alvin and saying good-bye to Pirate Jack, no longer a caravan, we headed out to visit Skip’s sister in Virginia, a three -day journey, first up the coast on I-95 to Savannah and then inland towards the middle of Virginia. Skip still wasn’t talking much but he told us his sister’s name was Jancis, and that she and her husband, Pete, had a place called “The Herbery,” a way-side herb farm. They also did gardening and landscape architecture for the rich folks with second homes a few hours from Washington, D.C.

At the end of the first day out, we stopped for dinner in Savannah, Georgia, at Mrs. Z’s Family Style Dining. While dining, Huck got a lesson in southern manners.  We were all at a long table sharing a meal with several others we didn’t know.  After being asked a second time, “Would you like more peas?” by a diner at the other end of the table, Steve whispered to Huck – “He’s politely asking you to pass the peas down.” 

     To Steve, this appeared to be a perfect opportunity to tell the newcomers at the other end of the table about our travels, our blog, our Rumpkin organizing, but everybody seemed subdued.  When Skip and Rocky went out for a smoke after eating, Steve followed along, saying, “What’s up you guys?  You seem preoccupied about something.”

     Rocky made up a fib, “Skip’s sister isn’t doing too good and he’s worried a visit by all of us will be too much for her.” 

     “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.  I think all of us are ready to get back to Minnesota.  Skip, you’ve found a second life in politics – that’s what you were looking for leaving Minnesota, right?  And with Sally finding what she was looking for as well; Patty having plenty of good footage for her movie; and Huck already having the time of his life; maybe this trip is ready for its denouement.  You know, I’ve been thinking I’m missing Jodie . . . maybe one more good fishing weekend for Max?

     “No,” Skip replied.  “We’re sticking to our list.  Huck and I both have folks expecting us in New York.  And you too, somebody in Philadelphia, right?”

We spent the night camped at the Stoney Crest Plantation Campground just outside Hilton Head, S.C.

——————————————————————————————————————–

     Meanwhile, things were fast developing in Boulder, Montana.  Super-sleuth Susie had gotten herself asked out on a date by the new guy in town.  He was having lunch at the Chat & Chew and Susie had accidentally on purpose dropped his check on the floor.  While bending over to retrieve it, she’d provided the guy a glimpse down her blouse.  At the cash register, paying his bill, he asked her what time she got off work, and “Would you care to join me for a drink at the Red Eye down the street after you get off?”

     “Sure,” Susie had said, “but I’ll want to change out of this waitress uniform first – into something a little more . . . attractive.  Make it five o’clock?”

     Walking home after work, Susie’s mind raced ahead.  How fast should I ask for his name?  I have to tell him my real name – he probably already knows it.  When do I ask how he happens to know Charlie Furbush – without sounding suspicious?  What if he tries to kiss me?  Should I just play the dumb blonde all night?  Promise yourself a two-drink limit, she decided, and then say you have to go home to make supper.

     When she arrived at the Red Eye a little after five, he was sitting at a table near the back, looking, she thought, every bit the gangster type who always faces the door.  In truth, he was dressed pretty normally, a western shirt, jeans, cowboy boots.  She had put on her tightest jeans and a sweater that fit snugly revealing two points way up high.

     “Not sure we properly met,” Susie said with a smile, approaching his table.  “My name’s Susie Cole.” 

     “The name’s John Dougherty, Miss Cole.  Can I call you Susie?”

     “Please.  John . . . such a common name.  You must have picked up a nickname or two along the way?” 

     “Not really.  Sometimes they call me the ‘Dough-Boy’ because I always seem to have the dough when it’s needed.”

     “What do you do for a living?” she asked.

     “Gotta cattle ranch up in Alberta, but I’m looking to move back to the States, sell the ranch, and retire somewhere where there’s plenty of good hunting and fishing – and maybe meet a new lady to take up with.”

     Susie’s mind was racing again.  That was way too forward on his part.  Is it too early to tell him I’m available?  Or the perfect opportunity to warm him up some more?

     “Oh, slow down now.  We barely know each other.  Do you have any friends around here?”

     “Yeah, I gotta couple pals in the hunting business – you know, hunting parties for those rich types who like to come up from the big cities for Elk season.  That kind of thing.”

     “I noticed you were in the Chat & Chew with Charlie Furbush the other day.  He’s pretty famous in these parts, you know.”

     “Yeah, Charlie’s one of my buddies.  Sure glad he got cleared on that murder rap.  A bum rap it was.  Somebody steals your rifle and you get blamed for a murder.  Glad the jury was able to sort it out.”

     “How ‘bout a game of pool?  You shoot pool?” she asked him.

     “You bet,” he said.  “Last pocket, for a dollar?”

     After he took her for a dollar, she said she had to head home to prepare supper.  “But Dough-Boy, John, I mean, I’m gonna win that dollar back next time.”

     That night she called her son Joey in Vancouver to see if he knew “Dough-Boy.” 

     “Mom!  That’s one of the names Furbush gave me!”  Joey said way too loud. “Not Dough-Boy, it’s Dougherty, John Dougherty!  All these guys are super-dangerous!  Dougherty and Furbush are full-fledged Proud Boys, part of the sex-trafficking ring.  They don’t stop at killing when it comes to keeping their enterprise afloat.  Go catch up with the Rumpkins again, wherever they are!  Not sure why Abdul was killed, but probably because he knew too much.  Stay away from Dougherty!  Get out while you can.” 

     Susie couldn’t wait to tell Skip about the Dougherty-Furbush-Vancouver connection, but all she got was his voice mail. It was close to midnight on the east coast. Skip wasn’t sleeping, right away he checked his voice mail, and called Susie back. Excitedly, she told Skip the details of her date with Dougherty and her call to Joey.

“Wow! Impressive!,” Skip told her. “Great job, detective! It’s the lead we need!”

Although it warmed her heart hearing how glowing Skip was of her sleuthing, she ended up saying, “But what the heck do I do now?”

     Skip was worried for her, “Geez, what are you going to do?  How well have you gotten to know Dougherty?”

     “Well, I think he’s totally a jerk frankly, but I told him I wanted to see him again, and I’m determined to help you get to the bottom of things,” Susie replied.

     “Well, if you go on a second date with him, I wouldn’t pump him for any more information.  Just let him do all the talking and try to keep your flirting in check.  You’ve done great work getting the name.  There are some leads on this end I can check.  If Dougherty’s the guy I think he is, you don’t want to go on any more dates with him.”

     Although it was late back at the Stoney Crest Campground, Skip quickly rounded up Rocky and Max.  “I’m pretty sure I know who Gordy’s cellmate was and he’s in Boulder, Montana as we speak.  We gotta get hold of Ken right away.  If Gordy’s cellmate was the name Susie told me, John Dougherty, then this guy is one – a sex trafficker; two –  a terrorist; and three – dating Susie!”

     Rocky said, “Somebody out there, somebody we’re close to learning about, knows the connection between the ballpark bombing and Abdul’s murder.  Max, you should call your ex-Lisa and confront her with Ken being part of a sex trafficking operation.  The way you talk about Lisa, she’d never stand for anybody doing that kind of shit, especially her own brother, and either turn-up the heat on him, or turn him in.”

     “Well, I don’t know about that,” Max said.  “We don’t have any evidence Ken is involved with sex trafficking or murder.  Skip, might be better if you call Ken.” 

 “Good,” Skip said.  “I’ll threaten Ken with telling his sister . . . little girls from Thailand, being sold as sex slaves . . . and his sister is going to hear all about it unless he tells who this John Doe Something-or-Rather’s really is.”