Read Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8 Page 1




  CACTUS ISLAND

  A Stan Turner Mystery

  Volume 8

  by

  WILLIAM MANCHEE

  Top Publications, Ltd.

  Dallas, Texas

  *****

  Cactus Island

  ©) COPYRIGHT

  William Manchee

  2006, 2008

  Cover Design by William Manchee

  Top Publications, Ltd.

  3100 Independence Parkway, Suite 311-349

  Plano, Texas 75075

  Ebook ISBN 978-1-935277-0-45

  Trade Paperback ISBN 1-929976-36-4

  Hardback ISBN 1-929976-38-0

  Audio CD ISBN 1-929976-52-6

  Library of Congress #2006902487

  No part of this book may be published or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or information storage and retrieval systems without the express written permission of the publisher.

   

  This work is a novel and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

  *****

   

   

  CHAPTER 1

  REFERRAL

  It is said that a good lawyer doesn’t have to advertise. If’ he’s competent and treats his clients fairly and honestly he’ll get all the business he could ever handle from referrals. I liked this concept because advertising was expensive and demeaning. In my years as an attorney I’d never spent a nickle on advertising and I was proud of that fact. But when I started law practice I never expected to get referrals from the CIA.

  It was the last Saturday in May 1990 when I was advised that another referral was coming my way from the Agency. Our third son, Peter, was a member of the Travis High School debate team and had just made it to the state finals. Peter had won all three of his debates and ranked third among all the debaters. What was most surprising about this was that he was only in the 9th grade and one of the youngest participants in the tournament.

  To celebrate the victory we stopped at Chili’s on the way home. There were eight of us: Rebekah and I, Reggi, Mark, Peter, Marcia, and Rebekah’s parents, Sylvia and Howard James. Mark was feeling a little down as he had been on the same debate team for two years and his team hadn’t ever come close to winning the state championship. Marcia, being the youngest, was jealous as usual. She couldn’t stand it when her brothers got to do things that she couldn’t do. Reggi was oblivious to the entire matter as he had never been a debater.

  “We almost made it to the finals once,” Mark said. “We would have if our coach hadn’t been so pathetic.”

  “What was wrong with Mr. Johnson?” Rebekah asked.

  “He was a moron,” Mark replied. “All he was interested in was flirting with the cute girls in the class.

  “Don’t call your teacher a moron,” I said stifling a laugh.

  “What do you mean by flirting?” Rebakah asked.

  “If the girls asked for help on their research he’d be all over it, but if one of the guys asked he’d tell us to figure it out for ourselves.”

  “Hmm. That’s not so unusual,” I replied. “Men tend to lose their focus when there’s a pretty girl around.”

  “Yes. Your father knows all about that,” Rebekah noted.

  I frowned at her. She was referring to my weakness for pretty women that had gotten me in trouble on a few occasions. That was a thing of the past but Rebekah couldn’t resist reminding me of it from time to time.

  “I’m going to be on the debate team and I bet we go to state,” Marcia said.

  “I bet you will,” Peter said.

  “It’s not that easy,” Mark snapped. “You have to do lots of research and practice all the time.”

  “Well, I will. Don’t worry. I’ll do whatever it takes,” Marcia replied.

  “But it’s not just you. The whole team’s got to be good. It’s so frustrating sometimes.”

  ”Okay, okay. No more arguing,” I said. “Tonight we are celebrating Peter’s victory. You did very well tonight, Peter. Your mother and I are very proud of you.”

  “Well, it wasn’t just me. Like Mark says, the whole team had to do well for us to win.”

  “You were the best though,” Marcia said smiling broadly.

  “Thank you, Sis. When you go out for the team next year, I’ll give you some pointers.”

  “Oh. Cool. Thanks.”

  Mark shook his head. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

  I started to laugh but was interrupted by my cell phone. “Hello.”

  “Stan?”

  “Yes.”

  “This is Mo.”

  “Oh, hi,” I said somewhat startled. It was unusual for mo to call me. Usually I called him at an answering service and then he’d call me back. Mo was a CIA operative who I’d worked with for several years. We first met when he came to me to file bankruptcy. When the case was over he said the Agency was so impressed with the job I’d done for him that they were going to refer me more business. He also indicated if I ever needed any help on anything just to give him a call.

  It took awhile for me to understand what Mo was talking about. I couldn’t figure out what agency he was talking about. Then it hit me. He worked for the CIA and they were apparently funding some of their covert operations on credit and then having their agents file bankruptcy. It seemed so bizarre I finally decided Mo had just been messing with me and forgot about it.

  A year or two later I was defending a young girl accused of killing her baby. It was a pretty difficult case because my client, Sarah Winters, didn’t remember giving birth and had no clue what had happened to her baby. To complicate matters there’d been threats again me and my family. They’d even poisoned our dog. Being desperate to find out who was behind these threats I called Mo for help. I wasn’t sure he was really a CIA agent, or if he was, that he’d remember his offer to help me, but he did and said he was glad I’d called.

  “I’ve got that information you wanted.”

  “Oh, that was fast.”

  “Well, you said you were in a hurry.”

  “I was. Thank you.”

  One of my clients was getting ready to sign a contract with a Chinese company for a road construction project. They were a little concerned about the company they were dealing with and asked me to check them out. They’d heard horror stories of contractors going to China and not being paid or ending up in jail for not having the proper governmental permissions.

  “Go outside. I’m on the patio.”

  “You’re here?”

  “Yes, don’t make a fuss. Just excuse yourself.”

  Rebekah frowned when I stood up. I smiled and shook my head. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this outside.”

  Mo was sitting on the patio with a beer in one hand and his cell phone in the other. As I walked over to him I wondered why he had decided to give me the results of his investigation in person. A telephone call would have been quite adequate. I sat down.

  “Another beer over here,” Mo yelled to the bar maid. “So, anyway. The company you asked me to check out seems to be legit and has the backing of the Chinese government. They probably don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “Good. This is going to be quite a lucrative contract for him.”

  “I must warn you though, the situation can change over there quickly.”

  “Really. So, how would we know if the situation is changing?”

  Mo pulled out an envelope. “Here. This is a list of useful contacts over there for your client. These are people he should get to know well. They’ll warn him if there’s any potential trouble on the horizon.”
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  “Thank you. This is more than I expected.”

  “Well, we consider you a valuable asset. I’m glad we were able to help. We owed you one anyway after the Huntington mess.”

  “Yeah, well you saved my life, so I’m not complaining.”

  “Yes, but if we hadn’t put your life in jeopardy I wouldn’t have had to. . . . But, I’m glad there’s no hard feelings.”

  “No. Not at all. I understand these cases get complicated.”

  “Good, because we may have to refer you another one, and it’s really complicated.”

  My pulse quickened. I liked working with Mo and helping out the CIA. It was exciting and the patriotic thing to do, but I didn’t like working in the shadows with very little idea what was going on. It was dangerous too and Rebekah would be upset if I took another assignment from Mo.

  “Sure, no problem,” I said swallowing hard.

  “It’s a divorce case.”

  “A divorce case? But I don’t handle divorce cases.”

  “You need to handle this one.”

  “No. I’m a Catholic. I don’t believe in divorce. But, my partner could do it. She doesn’t like handling divorce cases much but she’s done them before when her criminal docket was slow.”

  “Okay, hopefully the wife we were talking about will change her mind and not go through with the divorce, but if she can’t be dissuaded then we’ll refer her to Paula. She can’t know that the case came from us, though.”

  “Of course. I’ll say it came from Rebekah and I doubt she’ll need any oversight. She’s very competent.”

  I noticed Peter walk out the front door, so I got up.“I’ve got to get back. We’re celebrating Peters accomplishments on the debate team.”.

  “Yes, he’s a smart boy,” Mo said. “Is he going to be a hot shot lawyer like his father?”

  “That’s up to him. I’d never push one of my children into the legal profession or any profession for that matter. It’s a decision they have to make themselves.”

  Mo nodded as Peter walked up. “Dad, mom’s sent me to look for you.”

  “Right,” I said smiling at Peter. “Just ran into an old friend.”

  Mo stood up and we shook hands. “Nice running into you, Stan. Take care.”

  We went back inside but I couldn’t concentrate on the celebration. My mind kept wondering why the CIA was referring us a divorce. It was obviously a disgruntled wife, but whose wife? Was it the wife of an agent, a foreign diplomat, a military officer, or—? The possibilities were endless. In any event, I just prayed it would be routine, but somehow I knew that wouldn’t be the case.