Chapter 3

At five-fifty-five, we arrived for our six o’clock reservation for five at the Rainforest Café outside Disney World. We took an electronic puck from the hostess and waited. It’s got to be the busiest restaurant in the world. At five-fifty-eight, I had to restrain Melinda when she saw the big pink wide brimmed ‘Go to Hell’ hat. I told her to walk with Jackie slowly over to them, calmly, let Jackie talk first, and join me where we were waiting before any excitement was noted. When they were back over with me, I shook her father’s hand. They introduced themselves. Michael Knowles. Then I shook her mother’s. Melissa Knowles. I asked them to keep the noise down but to inconspicuously get the hugs and kisses over with and keep it low keyed.

Then I told them the truth. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth, all except for the part about them being prostitutes in the Caribbean for the last few months. So, maybe not the whole truth. I explained that Melinda had witnessed a murder involving some very high-level people’s relatives and that she needed to be away for a while until we found out who was who. There were people out there that did not want her to be able to say anything.

They understood. We actually ate a light meal while they talked, in low voices, then I promised to take care of her and told them we were heading out in the morning to talk to some people about what happened, what she saw, and who was involved. I asked them to allow me some latitude in not telling them where or with who, and they agreed. They just wanted their little girl safe. Happy would be nice. Safe would be better. They said her smile was genuine and they knew that she felt she was in good hands. I handed them a phone.

“Don’t use this for anything else. Nothing. When she calls, answer. You can call her. No names. No locations. Nothing specific. I just want to help her let you know she’s OK, and vice versa. She loves you guys and I don’t want to let anything or anyone stand in the way of that.” I got nods from both sides. I think Mike and Melissa were both still a bit stunned.

We parted ways. This time back at the suite, instead of Melinda staying in her room after she showered and put on her pajamas, she climbed into bed with us, behind Jackie, snuggled up, and we all drifted off.

I notified the contact in Atlanta that we were there and was told we were meeting off campus and lunch would be on them at Olive Garden. They gave me an address and a time.

Walking into the restaurant was a bit scary. There were four men in suits watching us walk in. Two looked at me then nodded and two looked at Melinda and nodded. The hostess acknowledged them then asked us to follow her. The suits in the lobby were our protection. We sat at a large table, way in the back, and no other guests were seated anywhere near us. Definitely not their first FBI rodeo.

“Agent Delgado. This is Agent Francis. You’d be Charles Cantrell?” I nodded. “Which of you is Melinda?” Melinda raised her hand, meekly. “Does she need to be here?” Delgado pointed to Jackie.

Melinda was quick. “Absolutely. We were there together, although she left before the incident. If she leaves, I do.”

Francis, a thirtyish woman with short blonde bobbed hair nodded. “Understood. We’re going to record this, so if any of you have a problem with that, say so now. We’re doing it anyway, but I’ll note your displeasure.” I shrugged. The girls looked at each other and nodded. “Melinda, before we get into the long drawn out story, please just give us a short outline. Just the specific incident.”

Melinda nodded. “Patricia. Patricia George and Brad Johnson were arguing about politics. Patricia called Linda Johnson a crooked bitch and Brad picked up his steak knife and side handed, put it through her heart. She coughed up some blood and fell forward onto the table. It was gross.”

“How do you know these people and when and where exactly did it happen?” Delgado asked.

“Other than being introduced to them, just what we see in the newspapers and such. Sophomore year is mostly current events and national politics. Boring until shit like this happens. It happened in the main dining room. Brad was at the foot of the table, opposite Gerald Burnstead. Patricia was to his right the next chair, kind of ninety degrees to him, and I was on the other side of her. Bill George was across from her on the other side of Brad.”

“When. Be as specific as possible.” Delgado was rude and getting on my nerves. I noticed I wasn’t the only one. I think Agent Francis thought he might use some manners as well by the look she gave him.

“You left when, Jackie?” Melinda asked my fiancée.

“The second of August. Friday.”

“The Tenth of August. Saturday. It was a week after she was gone. Guests generally come in on Wednesday or Thursday. I was with Patricia on Thursday night and all day Friday, then at dinner that third night, is when it happened.”

“Gerald Burnstead was there, also?”

“Yes, sir. He watched it from the head of the table. He had a couple of people come in and take her outside somewhere. I got up to go to the bathroom and heard Brad tell him I had to be taken care of. I got my bag, filled it up with what I could grab and left out the back of the resort.”

“Where did you go?” Delgado asked.

“Not important. I stayed with a friend,” she said. Francis looked at him with a frown and shook her head. He nodded grudgingly.

“OK. Here’s what needs to happen now. We’ll start from the top...” Melinda interrupted him.

“No. I’ll tell you everything from the time they showed up until I left, but if I say any more, my life is worthless. You have no idea, but you’ll need to get that information from someone else.”

“What?” Agent Delgado was getting peeved.

“Charlie, get me a lawyer. These people don’t want to fix this. They want to get me hurt. It’s pretty obvious that one,” she pointed at Delgado, “could care less if I live or die, or if I testify or not. He’s making this about the wrong thing. This isn’t about me.”

“Derek, knock it off. You’re scaring the crap out of her. Miss Knowles, please settle down. We have what we need for now. It’s in a foreign country and we need more help than just from you. We need your statement, yes, but this is bigger than you, you’re right. Mr. Cantrell, take her home. Not her home. Home with you. This is still highly classified. Very highly sensitive. We’ll reach you through the original channels. Derek, go. I’ll be out in a minute.” Delgado left, obviously with a chip on his shoulder. “Melinda, Gerald Burnstead is a bad, bad person. So are the people that visit there. He has friends. Just keep in mind that I do, too. Because of that, so do you. You’re safe with these people, I think. Mahogany row at the Pentagon sure seems to think so. Don’t talk to anyone until we get back with you, and Mr. Cantrell, keep your eyes open. Stay here until we’re gone. You don’t need to order anything, unless you’re hungry. We pay them for this. We’ll talk later.”

She handed me her card and walked out. Brenda Francis, Deputy Senior Agent in Charge, Southeast District/Caribbean/Central America Operations. The office address was the Atlanta Office, FBI. She wasn’t a local Atlanta asset.

“You girls hungry?” They shook their heads. The two big black vehicles out front left, so we followed and took off. “Home, or hotel and home in the morning?”

Melinda shrugged.

“Home if you don’t mind, Charlie. I don’t like it here, and I don’t think my friend does either.”

We were home in bed four hours later. As early in the evening as it was, they still weren’t hungry, each just had some toast and a glass of milk and after brushing their teeth and getting ready, climbed into my bed. Our bed. Jackie’s and my bed.

“I didn’t like Delgado, Charlie. He seemed like he was against Melinda, not what was happening in Aruba.”

“I agree, Jackie, but I think he was a jackass, not a threat to her, or us. Francis kind of let us know that. I think she has the same problem with him. He won’t last long. Let’s just wait. See what happens.”

It was few days later that we got a package from Rod. It was a package of identification materials for Melinda. Cheryl Cantrell. My niece. How handy. She frowned. She was going back to school.

“No problem. It’s going to start getting cold out anyway.”

“Sour grapes. Sour grapes,” Jackie teased. “This says you’re still a junior and didn’t miss any school. Good luck with that. I’ll help you study if you need it. Call your mom. Tell her you’re in school. She’ll worry less, I think.” She looked at me. I nodded.

The news story about Melinda Knowles being a missing teenager in Aruba just went away, but new ones took its place. Patricia George’s body had recently been found in a canyon in California. It had been there for at least a couple of weeks when it was found. The circumstances were deemed suspicious and under investigation. Her husband was in a state of shock and couldn’t communicate. He was sedated and at his home in Malibu under a doctor’s care. It seems he was in Aruba at the estate of Gerald Burnstead when she was found.

Rod called. “Brenda said not to worry and tell your niece they aren’t that dumb. They have some information and are building on it. Charlie, I don’t know what’s going to happen with all this, there are some interesting rumors floating around Washington right now.”

“You don’t know the half of it. It may get worse, it may get better. Who knows? Thanks, Rod. Stay in touch.”

Melinda was in school, doing well, adjusting, when the news was received. Rod called again. “Brenda wants Cheryl to know that her friend from work has a new job and gave the complete party list. Looks like the party was a smash. I hope that makes sense. She said she’d be in touch.”

“Rod, you’re a peach. Thanks. I’ll let her know. See you soon. I think I need to be there soon anyway.”

Melinda was both scared and relieved. One of the other girls, she thought it was probably Veronica, had given the names of everyone she knew to be there to someone. What was shared would either let Melinda off the hook or make things worse, but they’d come to a head one way or the other.

A week later, Rod passed a message that we needed to meet Brenda Francis again, same place, same time, same day.

When we got there, she had one man out in the lobby, but she was alone.

“Derek Delgado is in Sacramento. New position. I didn’t like his people skills and the director gave me some leeway. Veronica Sanchez identified no fewer than ten people, all of whom are known to us commoners as high-end folks, that were frequenting Gerald Burnstead’s little playhouse down there. A former vice president, a European prince, and the list goes on. Here’s the problem, Melinda. With the exception of Brad Johnson, Bill George, and Burnstead, and that is based on your testimony and that of a crazy person, as Johnson claims George is, there’s not a lot we can do. Aruba is Dutch Territory, the age of consent is fifteen, you all were there working voluntarily, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. It’s going to be really, really bad press for a couple of congressmen, a washed up politician, a prince, a football coach and a few business men, but as for the rest of them, no one really cares. George is in trouble by the way. The mother of one of the boys has turned against Burnstead and is going to cause him and George all kinds of problems. Those boys are nowhere near fifteen and they weren’t orphans, as advertised. He’ll be dealing with the Aruban authorities on that.

“Anyway, the powers that be want you to know that they appreciate you coming forward. We will need you to testify and be what they call deposed, but your deposition will be in private, with a judge’s staff helping. It will be recorded and provided to the attorneys. You will be on the stand for the trial, but you will be in a different room, with the judge’s staff, and Mr. Cantrell, if you wish. They will be able to ask you questions and get answers, you’ll have a TV if they want to show you something and ask about it. Make sense so far?” Melinda nodded. “I’ve spoken to your parents and they have asked that if it’s OK with Mr. Cantrell that you stay and finish school with them. That is only if it’s OK with you. There are other options, but none of them would be this nice. They felt it would help since at your age, continuity is pretty important, and they felt you’d be safer as well.”

Melinda nodded. “We’ll take her, Miss Brenda. I’ll keep her.” Jackie hugged Melinda into her side. She wanted no part of Melinda getting into trouble with her past.

“She’ll need to keep her new name for a while. There are still several people that would like her to disappear or at least not be able to speak. We don’t want that. At all. Oh, Charlie, a message from the Secretary of Defense. He said he owes you, anyway, but this just compounded it. His sister is devastated due to her loss, but thanks you both for bringing this forward. He also asked if you remember him.”

“I do. I flew him around when he was the Under Secretary of the Air Force for a while. I helped him up after he slipped on some ice once, then on boarding for our return trip, caught him and his briefcase and kept him from busting his kiester on the tarmac a second time. We talked a bit. He’s a good person. I know a lot about him, actually.”

“He certainly remembers you. In any case, you have friends in high places, too. He is adamant about protecting you three until this is over. At least his niece’s murder trial part of it. Oh, one thing I forgot to mention, Melinda. Questions about your work in Aruba will not be allowed. If it’s mentioned, you were a waitress. The judge has ordered it so. If the defense mentions it, things will go downhill for them very quickly. I just wanted you to know that. They have agreed to those ground rules, but lawyers are a dirty ugly bunch and...”

“I thought FBI agents had law degrees, Brenda,” I asked her.

“Not all of us. I’m an accountant. We’re just tightwads. Not necessarily pond scum.” She giggled, which got the girls giggling. It turned into a fun conversation.

She gave us a secure cell phone with instructions to only use it to speak to her, using the two numbers in it. One was to her office desk phone direct line, and the other to her secure cell phone. After thanking us again, she left us there. This time the young women accompanying me desired to dine. I was a bit hungry myself. I’ll admit to eating too many breadsticks. I always do.

Jackie did a Google search and called a hotel near the airport for reservations and found us two kings adjoined. “No smoking, the lady says,” Jackie warned us and laughed when the clerk said that. “No problem, ma’am. I was just laughing at the thought of one of us pulling out a cigarette. Sorry. Thank you. We’ll be there in a couple hours or less.” She’s going to be invaluable to me one day. I can already tell.

The second room’s bed didn’t get used. The shower and sink did, but not the bed. Melinda, now Cheryl, climbed into bed with us. This time, Jackie was on one side and she was on the other. I gave Jackie a questioning look. She shook her head, patted my tummy, then took Melinda’s hand in hers, holding them there and laying them on my chest. She leaned over so her lips were next to my ear and whispered, “You’re fine. We’re fine. We’ll talk.”

Oh, shit.

In the morning, we split up, them going in the other room to prepare to leave, and me staying there. I cleaned up, got ready, and watched them come back in. Cuties. Period. Short shorts, T tops, tanned legs, high heeled sandals, the whole bit. I’m definitely the beneficiary of their wild summer.

We talked on the way home about testifying and how that would all go down. She was concerned, but I reminded her that they were going to take care of her and not to worry about it. Her job, her main worry, was to do well in school so she could make a life for herself. Then I got curious.

“Melinda...”

She interrupted me. “Cheryl. Just Cheryl, for now.” She and Jackie cracked up. “Yes, Charlie?”

“Cheryl, just curious. How much did you make down there?”

“Oh, God. I wish you hadn’t asked. You’re going to think I’m such a whore. Jackie, remember that football guy?” Jackie nodded. “He came back. He told me that if I ever needed anything to contact him. He gave me a business card and everything. He gave me ten thousand dollars to spend the week with him. I wound up leaving there with over twenty-one thousand bucks and I have no idea how much the two necklace sets are worth. No idea. If they’re real, I’m not going to starve this year. I’ll probably keep them, though. They’re really pretty. Charlie, it was fun, but like Jackie, I’m back down to Earth now. The murder thing was bad enough, but even without that, I wouldn’t do it again for any amount of money. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t who I was, but since it happened, why fight it. I wasn’t a virgin when I showed up down there, either, so nothing is missing that shouldn’t be. I had some fun, learned a lot, and met some really nice people. I’m truly sorry about Patricia. She really was a nice lady.”

“Thanks, Me ... Cheryl. End of conversation. At least I know where to go if I need a loan.” I chuckled and got some smiles in return.

We made it home in one piece, parked the plane, gassed it up and headed for the house. When Cheryl (I was getting better at that) took her bag to her room, I asked Jackie about last night.

“Charlie, she’s lonely. She likes you. She likes me. Don’t freak out, but we’ve been together. Not since she was here, but we have been. We’re pretty close. It ... She isn’t a threat to you. Don’t even think that, but if you can stand it, she’d like to be closer to us. I don’t mind if you don’t. I hope it’s OK with you. She’s good people. She really is.”

I took Jackie in my arms and held her. “As you wish, dear, but please don’t let anything get between us. Not her, not Aruba, nothing.”

“Won’t happen, Charlie. Promise. I love you. I mean that. Ut-ut.” That was her signal that we had company.

The afternoon was spent doing chores. Mowing pretty much took most of the daylight. The grass was still growing, even though it was getting cooler. I told them if it didn’t warm up, I was going to cover the pool the next weekend. I was shocked when Cheryl said “Charlie, you do realize last night was Halloween, right? It’s not going to warm up. We’ve been running around and having so much fun, I’ll bet you forgot what season it was.” I nodded. They put all the tools away while I swept up and we went inside.

That night, in bed, I got a bit of a surprise. “I’d like not to wait any longer, Charlie. I want you to take me away, like the Calgon lady, and marry me. Soon. After Christmas, like you mentioned?”

“Where?”

“The living room for all I care. I don’t give a hoot. I just want someone to declare it and sign on the bottom line.”

“You think about it for a couple of days. We can have as exotic of a wedding as you want, or as simple of one. I don’t mind either. Just remember, as far as I’m concerned, and you agreed, we’re only doing this once, so make it special. Make it special for you, doll. Not to anyone else. To you. OK?”

“I promise. Is it OK with you if I take Aruba off the list?”

“You’re trouble. I should’ve known.” I tickled her a bit and kissed her. “Yes, if you must. Take Aruba off the list. Take Aruba off ALL the lists.”

“Nassau?”

“If you want.”

“Kingston?”

“If you want.”

“Paris?”

“If you want to fly commercial.”

“Ickkkk. Taking Paris off the list. No Aruba and no Paris.”

Cheryl started laughing at the whole conversation. “I’m going for a snack. Ice cream and cookies. You guys want anything.”

“Ice cream and cookies,” got back to her in stereo.

They decided on Nassau. We would get the license here locally and she lined up a preacher and a notary public down there that would do the ceremony. They had it all in hand. All we had to do was get through Thanksgiving and Christmas, and off we’d go.

Brenda Francis called and asked us to set up an appointment for us to get Melinda deposed. I had my legal team set it up in a neutral location, Memphis, Tennessee. My lawyer’s son knew a guy who knew a guy. It sounded funny, but it wasn’t. It worked. Like it would be in court, she would be in one room with Brenda, me, and my lawyer while the defense and the prosecution were in the other room with the recorder and the judge’s clerk. She was given the name Witness Jane. She gave the rundown of exactly what happened, all the way from dinner being served to Gerald telling the guys to move the body and her leaving.

The defense questioned Jane as to how she would know the people involved, but she explained that they were introduced on arrival and she had spent time with Patricia, some of that time was spent with Patricia saying what a pompous ass Linda Johnson’s nephew Brad was and that he wouldn’t be able to find a job if his aunt wasn’t Secretary of State in the last administration. “She introduced him to me later as the pompous ass in question. His reply was, ‘Fuck you, you Hollywood whore.’ It was the same person.”