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Story: OverKill (Ali Reynolds #18)
CHAPTER TWENTY
COTTONWOOD, ARIZONA TUESDAY, MARCH 21, 2023
8:00 A.M.
With the Clarice situation settled between them, Ali and B. rode to work together on Tuesday morning. Going in, Ali expected to spend the day focused on scholarship business. However, she had barely arrived at her desk when an email came in from Cami.
Arrived in London in good shape. Rachel met me at Heathrow. She doesn’t look the least bit like security detail material, but I’m glad to have her.
WWS has been following up on what happened in L.A. They have reason to believe that Petrov’s intent was to kidnap me rather than murder me, but it seems unlikely he was acting alone. As far as anyone knows, Petrov is still in the States. WWS has learned that the last ping on his phone was from somewhere near San Bernardino, California. That tells us he’s unlikely to be a threat here in the UK, but that doesn’t rule out threats from someone else.
At Rachel’s suggestion, I’m in the process of moving all my appointments from on-site visits to ones here in a hotel conference room. We’ll probably be eating most of our meals here, too. Expensive, yes, but better safe than sorry.
I know I wasn’t wild about having a bodyguard, but thank you for insisting. Don’t worry about me. I’m being careful, and Rachel is definitely on the job. Now let’s see if I can get any of these people to sign on the dotted line.
In other words, I’m glad we didn’t cancel.
Cami
After reading Cami’s email, Ali wasn’t so sure. Cami had indeed been in danger in California, and to Ali’s way of thinking, she was still in danger in the UK. Pocketing her phone, Ali left her office and hurried down the corridor to B. and Lance’s lab.
She handed her phone to B. and then to Lance so they could both read Cami’s message.
“But why would someone want to kidnap Cami?” a puzzled Lance asked, handing the phone back to Ali. “Her folks are both professors. They’re reasonably well off, but they wouldn’t have access to the kind of money that would make them good targets for ransom demands.”
“Maybe the ransom targets weren’t members of her family,” B. suggested. “What if they expected High Noon to pay up?”
As soon Ali heard the words, she knew that made absolute sense. When it came to an ability to meet ransom demands, Cami’s employer made a far better target than Cami’s parents.
“It sounds as though whoever it is was really targeting High Noon,” Ali said.
“Seems like,” B. agreed, “and they may try again. For right now, Cami has twenty-four-hour protection, but going forward, we’re going to have to take this kind of threat into consideration.”
Both Ali and Lance nodded in agreement.
“Furthermore,” B. continued, “so far there’s been no law enforcement involvement in what may or may not have happened to Cami, correct?”
Lance and Ali nodded again.
“Let’s try to keep it that way,” B. continued. “Instead of calling the cops in on this, let’s use Frigg. If High Noon was the ultimate target, it stands to reason that the culprit is most likely one of our competitors or else closely connected to one.”
“If we use GHOST to take them down,” Lance added, “they’ll never know what hit them.”
Because GHOST, a groundbreaking encrypted software, originally created by Lance Tucker and his high school computer club advisor, allowed High Noon to prowl through the internet while leaving behind no trace of any incursions.
“That’s true,” Ali agreed, “but we have to find them first.”
Back in her office, Ali summoned Frigg and put her on the case.
“Once I find whoever targeted Cami,” the AI declared, “I’ll do my best to make them Shetland up,” the AI replied.
“Shetland up?” a puzzled Ali repeated. “I don’t understand.”
“Doesn’t that mean to hold a wrongdoer responsible?”
It took Ali a moment to sort it, but finally she caught on. “You mean ‘pony up,’?” she explained. “Shetland is a kind of pony, but pony up means ‘to make someone pay up.’?”
“Very well,” Frigg said. “I’ll do what I can to make them pony up.”
Having turned the problem over to Frigg, Ali turned to her next order of business—Danny Knowles and Susan Rojas. Her plan was to notify each of them privately today. It was early spring, but college enrollment season was well underway. Danny and Susan needed to have enrollment handled long before the public announcement of their scholarship awards was made. That traditionally happened at an afternoon tea hosted by B. and Ali each year in early June.
Having determined who this year’s winners would be, it was past time for Ali to arrange the celebration, starting with setting a date and arranging the caterer. The identity of the caterer was no mystery. Raphael Fuentes, a previous Dougherty Scholarship winner, usually did the honors. The only concern was whether he still had dates available in early June.
Raphael’s lifetime dream had come true after he became the first male recipient of an Amelia Dougherty Scholarship. He had used the award to attend Le Cordon Bleu College of Culinary Arts in Scottsdale. Now an established caterer in the Phoenix metropolitan area, he’d handled Ali’s annual scholarship teas for several years now. Because she had Raphael’s direct number, Ali was able to get right through to him.
“Hey, Ali,” Raphael said when he answered the phone. “Is it already that time of year again?”
“It certainly is.”
“What date are you looking at?”
“Does Saturday, June third, work for you?”
“We’ll make it work. The usual time?”
“Yes, four to six.”
“Any idea of what you want?”
“Suit yourself,” Ali told him. “You always make good choices.”
“Same number of people—fifty or so?”
“You’ve got it.”
“Okay, then. It’s on my calendar. I’ll work up a proposed menu and email it to you.”
“Great. Thanks.”
Easy peasy , Ali thought as the call ended. Next she needed to track down the proposed guest of honor who, also by tradition, was a previous recipient. This year Ali hoped that role would be filled by someone dear to Ali’s heart.
Years earlier, Ali had been instrumental in rescuing a large number of abused women and children from a polygamous cult called The Family, located outside Colorado City in northern Arizona. The victims who had suffered the worst treatment were those who had attempted to escape but had been recaptured. Once returned to the cult and designated as “Brought Back Girls,” they had been regarded as pariahs. Rather than being allowed to stay in dormitories or houses like other cult members, they had been charged with caring for livestock and banished to live in barns and sheds with the animals they were expected to care for.
Poorly educated and with almost no marketable skills, most of the women who had emerged from The Family had been ill-equipped to deal with a modern world. Surprisingly enough, the Brought Back Girls had fared better than the others, because the skills they had developed while working with the animals were indeed marketable.
A women’s shelter in Flagstaff had been ground zero when it came to placing the Colorado City refugees, and the search for housing and jobs had included all of Arizona. A veterinarian from southern Arizona, Dr. Sophia Kaluznaicki, owner of the Green Valley Animal Hospital, had responded to the shelter’s call for help. Sight unseen, she had agreed to hire one of the Brought Back Girls, Meredith Glenn, to be her new kennel girl.
Dr. Kaluznaicki’s practice specialized in large animals, and Meredith had spent years caring for The Family’s livestock. Meredith’s new employer soon recognized the young woman’s natural abilities when it came to dealing with large animals, and although Meredith hadn’t received a traditional education, she was a teachable quick learner.
Eventually Dr. Kaluznaicki had taken Meredith in hand and encouraged her to dream big. To begin with, she had wanted to become a veterinary assistant, which eventually morphed into her wanting to become an actual vet. That had required her enrolling first at Pima Community College and later at the University of Arizona. This year, with the help of an Amelia Dougherty Scholarship, Meredith would be part of the first class to graduate from the University of Arizona’s new College of Veterinary Medicine, which was why Ali wanted her to be the guest of honor. She would be the Amelia Dougherty Scholarship Program’s first-ever vet.
After obtaining Meredith’s number, Ali gave her a call. “How’s it going?” she asked, after identifying herself.
“Coming down to the end,” Meredith answered. “Graduation isn’t until the end of May, but I already have two job offers.”
“If you accept one of those, please tell them you can’t start until after the third of June.”
“Why not?” Meredith asked.
“Because I’d like you to be the guest of honor at this year’s Amelia Dougherty Tea, if you wouldn’t mind doing it.”
“Would I be able to bring Sophia along?” Meredith asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Then count me as a yes,” Meredith said.
Two down, two to go , Ali told herself. With that handled, she hit the road.
In years past she had included parents and/or guardians when making these initial announcements, and as a general rule, the recipients’ relatives were thrilled to hear the news. This time things were different. Danny’s father was adamantly opposed to the idea of his son going on to school, and Susan’s great-grandmother might be reluctant to pull up stakes and go live somewhere else. With those two situations in mind, Ali decided to approach her winners privately while they were still at school.
Mingus High School, which Ali herself had once attended, was right there in Cottonwood. She drove there, pulled into a visitor parking place, and then made her way unassisted to the principal’s office, where she asked to speak to the school counselor, a Mrs. Woods. Since Mrs. Woods had written one of Danny’s two letters of recommendation, she was delighted to meet Ali and thrilled to be able to call Danny’s third-period teacher and ask that he report to her office. He did so immediately.
“This covers everything?” Danny asked in disbelief, after Ali delivered the news.
Ali nodded. “The works,” she said. “Tuition, room and board, and books, along with a small monthly stipend to cover other expenses.”
“But it’s not a loan?”
“Definitely not a loan,” Ali told him, “and it’s renewable for all four years as long as you carry a full load of classes and maintain a 3.0 or better GPA. Have you chosen where you’d like to go?”
“Northern Arizona University,” Danny said at once. “I got an admission application from there, but I didn’t see any point in filling it out.”
“There’s definitely a point now,” Ali said, “so you’d better get to it, but are your folks going to be okay with this?”
“They’ll be fine,” Danny assured her. “My dad’s big issue was my having to take out a bunch of loans. He’ll be glad I won’t have to. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Ali said. “Thank Mrs. Woods and Mrs. Donner. By the way, that drawing you did of Mrs. Donner is what put you over the top.”
Ali’s next stop was close to an hour away in Mayer. At the high school there, Ali was disappointed to learn that Susan Rojas had been marked absent for the day. Worried that something might have happened to Susan’s great-grandmother, Ali drove several miles east to Cordes Junction. Armed with a street address, she followed a dirt road past a mobile home and pulled up next to a moldering RV that was parked some distance away. The vehicle had clearly seen better days.
As soon as Ali stopped the car, a young woman darted out the door and hurried up to the driver’s-side window. From the anxious look on her face, Ali could tell that unexpected visitors most likely weren’t welcome inside.
“Can I help you?”
“Are you Susan?” Ali asked.
The young woman nodded.
“I’m Ali Reynolds with the Amelia Dougherty Scholarship program. I’m here about your application.”
Susan’s expression darkened. “If you read my essay, you already know there’s no way for me to go on to school. I have to look after my nana. That’s why I’m absent today. Nana wasn’t feeling well last night, and I didn’t want to leave her alone.”
Ali’s heart constricted. Caring for an elderly relative was heavy duty for anyone, but for someone so young, it had to be a terrible burden. Given that, Ali couldn’t help but wonder if Susan’s grandmother would still be part of the equation once school started in the fall.
“Your nana is very lucky to have you looking after her,” Ali said, reaching over and pushing open the passenger door. “Hop in. Let’s talk.”
Reluctantly, Susan did as she was told. They talked for the better part of an hour. Gradually Susan’s mood changed from one of wariness to one of hope.
“You mean Nana would be able to live there with me?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“I’d want to go to NAU, then,” Susan said. “ASU is too close to my mother’s family in Phoenix. I don’t want to be anywhere near them. Neither does Gran. But you’re saying everything I need will be covered—tuition, books, food, and everything?”
“The works,” Ali said. “That’s what ‘full ride’ means. I’m giving you the news now so you can start the enrollment process, but the public announcement won’t be made until early June at an afternoon tea, so are you in or out?”
“Definitely in,” Susan said.
“All right, then,” Ali said. “That’s all I need to know.”
“Thank you,” Susan added faintly.
“You’re welcome,” Ali replied. “And congratulations.”
She left shortly after that, driving back to Sedona feeling as though she had put the scholarship matter to bed one more time. Someday, she’d need to pass the Amelia Dougherty torch on to someone else, but for right now, she still found it incredibly rewarding. And for today, at least, it had helped take her mind off whoever the jerk was who was targeting Cami Lee and High Noon Enterprises.
Table of Contents
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