POINT OF CONNECTION

AuthorHouse

Chapter One

Present Time

Freezing winter snow and sleet pounded the frosted windowpane. Outside temperatures continued to fall as the snow and ice packed trees whistled incessantly. Brittle branches scraped across the building creating an eerie aura to the boisterous scene.

Dan Jamieson leaned back in the swivel chair, shrugged his shoulders and shivered. The inclement conditions were lingering in his finger tips and toes while taking solace in romantic memories of warm sands, blue skies and Maggie at his side. He folded his arms and smiled.

The glorious memory of intimate moments together temporarily erased the reality of the present. A warm glow of sharing a tropical breeze with the woman he loves, the ocean waves caressing their bodies, the white sand; bonded together as one eternal being. Could it have been only yesterday?

Just minutes ago they walked hand in hand into the familiar sounds and activity of the agency offices. He patted her shoulder, kissed her cheek and reluctantly entered the anticipated turmoil of company responsibility.

The employee issues and client demands they had escaped two weeks ago were now again their reality.

"Does it seem like only yesterday we were on the beach?"

Dan smiled down at her as they braced for the expected onslaught of questions and two-week old issues that inevitably awaited their return.

The familiar surroundings of the agency outside his private office erased some of the apprehension. The ease by which he acquiesced to Maggie's urgings of his first actual vacation in several years was miraculous and something that surprisingly had been an easy decision. Her influence had become a life altering experience.

It was less than two years ago that Maggie Wood entered his workaholic and structured life, capturing his heart forever and becoming his wife. He bragged frequently how this turn of events had been, "the best thing that ever happened to me!"

Within minutes, however, one of his first early morning sensory challenges erased some of that reverie. The old warrior climbed reluctantly back into the saddle, ready for action. Familiar issues and battles were waiting to be waged.

With his competitive juices flowing he charged enthusiastically ahead.

He had found a renewed sense of life and meaning! Maggie became his narcotic of choice and the hardnosed competitor became a little softer because of it.

Frantic phone lines began to buzz with activity as the agency came to life with Dan eagerly responding.

"I'll take that call, Maggie."

He recognized the caller's corporation name illuminated on his console.

"I probably know what he wants us to do!"

Another gust of wind rattled his large picture window. Dan punched the button on his phone and picked up the receiver.

This caller, an eastside foundry Vice President and Director of Personnel, was requesting again the use of armed bodyguard surveillance for the next two months. He required Friday afternoon protection at the same time their factory workers arrived to collect their payroll checks.

Dan listened patiently, recalling a similar conversation with the same executive last year.

Half-day assignments that were long in duration could become extremely difficult to schedule, making it non-profitable and usually a drain on investigator manpower. The Agency investigative staff could be better utilized on more productive investigative efforts.

Dan further recognized the potential that openly armed bodyguard requests were dangerous to his people because those so inclined to cause trouble would obviously take out his personnel first.

"I'd like to have your investigator's showing their firearms when they arrive!"

The gusting wind, mingled with the roar of industry and foundry activity on the other end of the line, fortunately camouflaged Dan's frustration. Dan's initial thought was, "this guy just doesn't get it!"

"We think it's a good idea to let those trouble makers know we mean business!"

"I thought we discussed the hazards of these methods way over a year ago."

Dan struggled to disguise his agitation.

"But Dan, we're getting threats. Even our foundry President had a note shoved under his door a couple days ago".

"My reasons haven't changed! I have to think of your safety and my own people."

Dan Jamieson rose from his desk, exasperated and growing disgusted with this annual verbal contest.

He walked to his picture window for solace, peered out at the blistery winter weather and shook his head. The storm raged on with additional snow accumulating on the parking lot and the vehicles below.

"But Dan!"

A frantic and almost fearful sounding plea emanated over the phone line. There was silence for several seconds interrupted only by the sounds of industry in the background and the pounding sleet on the window.

"It's the same old stuff, these threats are for real! These core makers and the guys out there may not be college professors but I'm telling you man, they can figure what we owe them better than some CPA's. They get it right down to the penny."

"I'm sorry, my answer is the same as before."

Several lines were blinking on his personal phone console. Dan peered out into the reception area hoping someone there would answer them.

"Who do you think will be the first guy plugged when one of your hotheads comes in the door blazing because he's pissed off about his paycheck?"

Only the same factory sounds, machinery and pounding steel responded to his question on the other end of the line.

Dan's memories of his visits to the foundry were the acrid aroma of hot metal in the air and the energy of men at work. He could almost feel the dust and heat filtering through the telephone line.

"It would be my investigator!" His anxiety and annoyance almost spilling into the phone line abated.

He waited again for a response on the other end of the line. Lowering his voice and controlling his annoyance he pushed back in the chair, took a deep breath and calmly addressed his client.

"I have some time tomorrow afternoon. We still have almost a week before your next payday. We discussed some other alternatives a while back."

"We know you're right on this, Dan."

A phone was ringing on the other end, mixing obnoxiously with the foundry turmoil and the frustrations of the nervous client.

"Our attorney tells us almost the same thing, liability you know, that sort of thing."

"Let's get together about two-thirty. Our President also wants a word with you. Believe me, Dan, we trust you, what you've done in the past. We're just not used to this sort of thing."

It was only yesterday that Dan was snorkeling in the clear water of St. John with Maggie, nearby, lounging onboard their small rented sailboat. Life was good!

Tomorrow he'd be sitting in the dust and grime of the foundry.

Thirty seconds later, the conversation ended. Dan loosened his tie and closed his eyes for several seconds. The vision of his gorgeous Maggie frolicking in the surf wearing the purple bikini he'd bought her on St. Thomas three days before. He remembered again the long walks through town.

The endless sand...