James Swain - The King Tides

“You’re wasting your time,” he said. “I don’t have any kiddie porn. I’m a private investigator on a job.”

“Keep talking, and I’ll put a gag in your mouth.”

The kitchen was next. He craned his neck and watched her pull out the silverware drawer and turn it upside down. Then she attacked the cabinet stocked with canned goods. She was going to wreck the place if he didn’t stop her.

“You’re the girl in the Cassandra videos, aren’t you?” he said.

The commotion came to a halt. She returned to the dining room and stood in front of his chair. The blood had drained from her face, her cheeks white.

“What did you just say?” she said.

“You’re Cassandra,” he said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. I just figured it out. The FBI decided to create the Cassandra videos and posted them on the internet to draw out sexual predators. It was a clever idea, except for one thing. You couldn’t use a real underage girl to make the videos without breaking the law, so you volunteered, and a company of video magicians age-regressed your face and body and Cassandra was born.”

Daniels looked like she wanted to strangle him. She had spent a lot of the FBI’s money creating the Cassandra videos and hadn’t expected anyone to figure out the deception. He rattled his handcuffs and she glared at him.

“Are you going to let me go? I can help you.”

“Not until I finish searching your place.”

“What are you expecting to find?”

“Evidence. I’m not buying your story. You’re a pedophile, and pedophiles keep libraries. Once I find your library of videos and images, I’m going to arrest you, and throw your sorry ass in jail.”

“You’re wrong. I’m working a case and found the Cassandra videos stored on a guy’s cell phone.”

“And then you erased them.”

“I didn’t erase them. The guy did. He found out what I’d done, so he used a computer to go to his account and erase the videos.”

“Your story sounds like bullshit. Sit tight. I won’t be long.”

He was growing angry. He hadn’t done anything wrong, yet she refused to hear him out. It was time to show his hand. “What if I told you that I was working a job for your sister and brother-in-law, and that it led me to you?”

“Nice try. My sister lives on the other side of the world with her family.”

She finished wrecking his kitchen and then moved to his study. The wall in the study was covered with framed photographs of him as a SEAL and as a detective, and he wondered if she noticed them or cared that he’d once been a cop.

She came out of his study looking pissed. Her eyes canvassed the dining room, and fell upon the hall clothes closet. It was the one place she hadn’t checked, and she marched over to it and yanked open the flimsy door. On the top shelf was a cardboard box containing his collection of bootleg recordings of the Jimmy Buffett concerts he’d attended. She pulled the box down and started to rummage through it. Finding the CDs, she grabbed a handful and waved them in the air.

“Gotcha,” she said.

Daniels placed him under arrest and read him his rights. When he asked her to play the CDs on his laptop, she tuned him out. It was a classic case of tunnel vision. She thought he was a pervert, and nothing he said was going to change her mind.

She got a knife from the kitchen and cut him free from the chair. With his wrists still handcuffed behind his back, he stood up. One of his legs had gone to sleep, and he shook it awake. She took it as a hostile action and drew her gun and aimed it at him.

“Don’t do that again,” she said.

“You think I’m going to jump you?” he said.

“I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“But I’m handcuffed.”

“Trapped animals will try anything.”

“Am I an animal?”

“You most certainly are.”

The breath caught in his throat. Daniels wanted to shoot him. She had decided he was a monster and was looking for a reason to pump a bullet through his heart. If he made another sudden move that she deemed a threat, his life was over.

“I’m not a monster. Call Melanie. She’ll tell you.”

“Melanie?” she said, not understanding.

“Yes, Melanie Pearl, your sister. Call her.”

“I don’t have her number.”

“How can you not have your sister’s number?”

“My sister lives in Dubai. We haven’t spoken in years,” she said.

Daniels didn’t know that her sister had returned to the United States and was living in Fort Lauderdale. He was not going to pass judgment on her about this. He had a brother he hadn’t spoken to in years, so he knew how torturous family relations could be.

“I hate to be the messenger, but your sister and her family left Dubai three months ago and resettled in Fort Lauderdale,” he said. “Your brother-in-law now runs the neurology department of a local hospital. They’re my clients. I was looking through your niece Nicki’s laptop computer and saw a photograph of you wearing an FBI windbreaker. That’s why I contacted you.”

Confusion spread across her face. “What the hell are you talking about? Why did my sister hire you? What’s happened to her?”

“I’ll tell you, but first stop pointing that gun at me.”

“I don’t think so.”

He slowly sank into the chair. “How about now? I can’t attack you sitting down.”

Daniels considered it, then decided he wasn’t a threat and put her gun away. She picked up the two cell phones off the dining room table. “Which one is yours?”

“The blue one,” he said. “Your brother-in-law’s number is in my contacts. Tell him that you’re with me, and that I asked him to text me a photograph of Nicki.”

“Why should he do that?”

“Because then you’ll understand why I contacted you.”

“You better not be playing games with me.”

“I’m not. Call him.”

Daniels made the call and placed the phone to her ear. She hadn’t seen her niece in over five years. That was a long time when a kid was growing up. She was going to be surprised in the change in Nicki, and not in a pleasant way.

Nolan Pearl answered the call. Lancaster could faintly hear his voice.

“Nolan, this is your sister-in-law, Beth,” Daniels said without emotion. “I’m here with a man named Jon Lancaster who claims to be a private investigator. Lancaster says you hired him to do a job. Is that true?”

“Hello, Beth. What a surprise. It’s been too long,” Pearl said without emotion. “Yes, we did hire Lancaster. Are you here in Fort Lauderdale?”

“Yes, I am. I arrived a few hours ago,” she said. “Lancaster tells me that you and Melanie moved back three months ago.”

“We did.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?”

“That was Melanie’s decision, Beth, not mine.”

“She won’t bury the hatchet, will she?”

“You said some horrible things to her.”

“Ask him to send you a photograph of Nicki,” Lancaster said.

Daniels put the phone against her chest. “Shut your mouth.”

“Just do it, will you? I’m getting sick of these handcuffs.”

“You think I’m going to take them off?”

“Yes, and then you’re going to apologize to me.”

The comment rattled her, and she resumed talking to her brother-in-law. “You still should have let me know you were here. Let me tell you why I called. Lancaster wants you to take a photograph of Nicki, and text it to his cell phone. Will you do that for me?”

“Of course, Beth. Are we going to see you while you’re in town?”

“If I have the time, yes.”

“I’m sure Nicki will be thrilled. Give me a minute to send you the photo. It’s been nice talking to you. It’s been too long.”