Chapter 23

The newsman read the story just like every one of the two-thousand and five hundred, or so, other stories he'd read in his long and unimportant career. When you watched, and listened to his delivery, you understood why Springfield, Missouri was as far as his broadcasting career was going to take him.

"Just outside Orlando, Florida, police say three people were murdered, execution style, yesterday afternoon. The dead have been identified as Carol Sanderson, forty-two years old, and her two daughters, Joan and Jill, fourteen and thirteen years old, respectively.

"The three were gunned down by unknown assailants sometime after twelve-thirty pm, yesterday. Their bodies were discovered by a neighbor, who noticed their front door standing open and a trail of blood leading out to the driveway. Police officials are being unusually tight lipped about this triple homicide.

"The home was the scene of a bizarre attempted robbery, a few months ago, which was foiled when one assailant accidentally shot his accomplice, while trying to break in. So far no one is connecting the earlier incident to the triple murders.

"No other details are available at this time..."

The man droned on as if he'd just announced ladies softball tryouts.

Millie snapped the TV off, uttering an unkind comment about the newsman's parentage. Colleen and Rebecca stifled smiles, while Mr. Bell sat stone-faced. Our home was a veritable fortress. In any direction, there were armed guards, armored vehicles, attack dogs, and a sense of anticipation. The protective agents WANTED the mob to show up. They were panting for a confrontation.

It was noon, and Judge Jones had visited and already left. After him came the entourage of the DHS Secretary, and Attorney General of the United States. Their message was all the same.

"We will find those responsible and bring them to justice."

When the last of the official visitors was mercifully gone, Millie sat down beside me on the sofa and cried against my chest. Rebecca and Colleen were red eyed, as they contemplated what this new attack meant for our future. I was still furious, but my fury was completely under control, and it made me seem terribly frightening, or so said Colleen.

Mr. Bell asked me what I was thinking, and I said, "When I get my hands on the people who did this, they will hate their mothers for bringing them into this world." He believed me. They all did.

I thought about what had happened. David's mother and both sisters were dead. They were gunned down like clay pigeons by people sent by the mob. Tim Sanderson was still alive, in protective custody, in jail. The fact that he lived, while Carol, Joan, and Jill were dead was a personal affront to me.

"He has to go down," I said suddenly, surprising everyone.

Mr. Bell caught on immediately and said, "Yes. I think he does." Millie and Rebecca looked at us, perplexed. Colleen got it, and wished she didn't.

Benjamin chose that moment to ask to go out. I walked with him out the door, across our porch, and through the back yard. Ten agents converged on me, from four sides, to keep any danger from intruding. Normally I would wave, greet, and ask about each agent. This time I watched my puppy, loved on him when he came to me, and went back inside.

Mr. Bell was on the phone when I walked into the kitchen. "Yes, Jack. David said the same thing. We have to find him some closure, and your suggestion might be the only way. Try to set it up, and let me know if you are successful."

He didn't say goodbye. He didn't say anything else. Mr. Bell hung up and turned to me. "David, Jack thinks we should take a trip to Deland and confront Tim Sanderson in jail. The consensus is he might lose his cool and give us something to go on if you show up and rattle him enough.

"What do you think?"

I thought about his suggestion. It sounded like a lawyer kind of next move. "Let's do it. I will call Jet Services and order a plane. We can leave now. No sense waiting around for them to make another move on me.

"We can't let them come to us, Mr. Bell. Our girls are expecting my children. I swore I would kill, or die to protect them, and I will. Whatever it takes ... Where ever I have to go ... Whatever it costs...

"I don't care.

"They will not get near my girls and our babies. I will shoot them myself before I will wait for them to come to kill me."

Mr. Bell asked me to hold that thought until he called the judge.

Rebecca started to cry. Colleen hugged her. Millie hugged Mr. Bell and I hugged Benjamin. We were all scared, but I was deadly angry.

Tim Sanderson was going to die.

Jack showed up a minutes after five pm. He came straight to me and apologized, waiting for me to start screaming at him.

It never happened.

"You're right, Jack," I said. "Let's go to Deland and confront my father. He is too unstable not to go nuts and give up some information when he sees me alive, instead of dead like the rest of the family.

"Mr. Bell will go with me, and we need to go ASAP. I can call Jet Services and get us as big a jet as we need, but we need to get going."

Jack looked me over very carefully and said, "Are you going to kill him?"

"Tim Sanderson has to die...

"Hire anyone you need. Buy any information that's for sale. Threaten anyone that needs threatening. Find me everyone involved, everyone who ordered it, everyone who helped plan it, and everyone who knew about it. Do whatever it takes to extract every shred of information they know, and then put them all in the ground.

"Tim Sanderson is going in the ground with them."

The flight was hastily arranged, and in a much bigger jet than I intended to charter. My protective detail continued to swell, as the FBI, and CIA decided to participate. Judge Jones talked to Mr. Bell for a long time. He wanted to strategize my meeting with Tim Sanderson.

I could tell they were afraid that I would attack him the instant he came in the room, but I knew I had to be smarter than that. Sanderson needed to be played like a fish. He HAD to believe I was frightened, and weak. Then he had to think he could bully me. When that failed, I expected him to lose it and start screaming like a mad man.

The jail looked just like a jail. Other than an outrageous amount of security, there was nothing about our arrival that would catch a casual eye.

Inside I waited while Tim Sanderson was brought to visiting. We were given an interview room, ostensibly because I was there to inform him that his wife and daughters were dead. I intended to provoke him into a killing rage and see what spilled out. It was a good plan. Once he lost control it would be child's play to manipulate him into giving up his secrets and giving us a place to start.

Unfortunately none of that happened. After we were processed in as visitors, Jack and I were met by a jail official who informed us that the "prisoner" we wished to visit had been taken into federal custody, just hours earlier, and moved to a secure, federal, facility.

Jack and I looked at each other in complete surprise. Judge Jones knew exactly what we planned. Why would he thwart us this way? Rather than make a scene, we thanked the man and were escorted out where our entourage waited for orders.