Finally, she pulled into the underground garage. She locked the truck and went to her room, throwing the backpack onto the bed. Before she took out the recorder and reviewed the tapes, Neeley knew she needed to regain positive control. Sitting in the lotus position on the floor, she slowed her breathing down and focused her eyes straight out at a spot she picked on the wall. After fifteen minutes, Neeley's pulse settled down and she felt confident she could recommence the mission in a competent manner.
Neeley stood up and took the four tapes and machine with her to the balcony. She opened the sliding doors and sat on the uncomfortable metal chair at the small table. The chill night air pricked at her skin as she slid the first tape in. She wasn't even sure if there would be anything on this first tape, never mind the other three.
She hoped that Hannah had not had the TV or stereo on the whole time. That would have activated the nearest bug and kept the tapes running. Then even if Hannah had talked on the phone, the two bugs activated would have overlapped their respective sounds. Neeley didn't feel like trying to sort through that kind of mess. Each micro-cassette was good for two hours on slow speed.
She slipped the first tape in and pressed the earphone into her left ear. She put a notepad on her knees and clicked out the lead point on a mechanical pencil so she was ready to make notes. Neeley pushed the on button and waited. The slight hiss of the tape running was broken as a phone rang. Neeley heard Hannah's voice close up for the first time:
"Hello?"
"Hannah? This is Howard Brumley. How are you holding up?"
Neeley scratched the name onto the pad.
"I'm fine Howard, thank you for calling. What do you need?"
“Did you see Jenkins?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause, and then Brumley spoke again. "We need to set up some time for a talk. I know you weren't ready to deal with the other day, but we do need to discuss the MDA?"
"MDA?"
"Marital dissolution agreement."
Lawyer, Neeley thought. But who was Jenkins?
"I'm sorry, Howard. I didn't know there was more to talk about. I don't see why I should give John what he wants. Why the hell does he want a divorce any way, if he's in the South Seas?"
"I don't know why he wants it," Howard said, "but it's in your best interests to finish it quickly."
Neeley frowned. That was odd. Why was John trying to put such distance between himself and Hannah and why was the lawyer so interested in it? The only evidence that John was in the South Seas was John’s card to Hannah and her lawyer. That made Neeley doubt very much that was where the man was. Misdirection was one the most basics tenets of covert operations.
"Doesn't John have to sign papers too?" Hannah asked.
"I told you the other day that John sent them to me already filled out," Howard replied.
"Who did them for him?" Hannah asked. "You're his lawyer too."
"Not anymore," Howard quickly said.
"So who filled out his papers?" Hannah asked again.
"He did them himself, the way they look," Howard replied. "It's all boilerplate anyway. John just had to fill in the blanks."
"Do you have a way to get in contact with him, to send him the paperwork back?" Hannah asked.
"No," Howard said. "We can file it here in town without him. Listen, how about we discuss it over lunch?" the lawyer asked. "Say tomorrow at one?"
A pause. "That will be fine, Howard. Where do you want to meet?"
"How about Al Baker's?"
"Fine. See you tomorrow. Goodbye."
Neeley made a new heading on the right side of the pad, labeling it with the next day's date. She penciled in the appointment, restaurant and the lawyer's name on her pad.
Neeley shut the tape down for a second. She thought about the conversation and felt a pinprick of excitement. Perhaps she'd just been given a clue.
Neeley turned the machine back on. There were about ten minutes of assorted tape time consisting of the voice activated device being triggered by the noises of Hannah moving around the house; making drinks for herself, moving a bar stool, running the water. Neeley patiently waited these out. Then the phone rang again.
"Hello."
"Hannah?"
"Yes. This is Hannah Masterson."
"This is Sam. Sam Evans."
Another name was added to Neeley's list.
"Oh." Pause. "Oh, hello Sam. I'm sorry I didn't recognize your voice. I guess I'm sort of out of it."
"I'm returning your call. Don't tell me you and John are thinking of relocating already?"
"I need to put the house on the market."
There was a pause. "Has John been transferred?"
"You could say that," Hannah replied.
Sam sounded confused. "Won't the company be buying your house? That's the way it usually works."
Hannah's voice was tight. "It's my house, Sam. I want to sell it. All right?"
The voice was syrupy at the thought of the commission. "Certainly, Hannah. I just thought you ought to know that the market isn't very good right now, but I think I can drum something up for you. I have quite a few buyers who are interested in your area and I think your house would go very quickly."
Neeley labeled Sam on the paper: real estate agent.
"Great. Let me know what you come up with."
The oily voice was persistent. "That's fine, Hannah. But listen. Would it cause you any problems if I brought some people by in the next day or so. Just so I can get a feel for the market and also so I can give you an accurate idea of what you can get?"
Hannah's voice was weary. "Fine. Whatever."
"Good. That's good."
"Thank you for your time, Sam." The phone went dead.
The first tape played out with normal house noises. Neeley grimaced five minutes into the second one. Hannah had turned on the TV. Neeley fast forwarded, stopping every twenty counts on the machine to check. The rest of the second tape was filled with the noise of the TV with no apparent interruptions.
Neeley popped the third tape in. More of the same. Neeley fast forwarded and zoomed through the rest of the tape. Normal house noises. She loaded the last one. Ten minutes in, another phone call.
"Hello?"
"Hannah, is that you?"
"Yes, Amelia, it's me. What do you need?"
"I just realized that I forget to tell you what I came by this morning to talk to you about."
"What's that?"
"You probably don't remember, but tomorrow is the hospital auxiliary board meeting.
"You're right, I didn't remember."
"I just want you know that I would be happy to take over your duties as president tomorrow until you're able to resume them."
"I have a great idea, Amelia. Why don't you just keep those duties and any others that might interest you forever?"
"Well, I was just trying to help. I know no one would expect you to be there, but it is the monthly meeting."
Hannah's reply was clipped. "Is that all?"
"Well, there is the question of the Museum Guild and…"
"Amelia I want you to listen very carefully. Don't bother me with this shit. Do you understand what I'm saying? I can't deal with this now. Just do it."
"All right, Hannah, please don't get upset with me. I'm just trying to help"
"You can't help. No one can help. If everybody would realize that one simple fact I could maybe get my life back together."
"Hannah, I think of what you're going through and I wonder what I would do if something were to happen to Ralph. My God, it just terrifies me!"
"Right. Goodbye Amelia." The tape clicked off.
Neeley pushed the forward and scanned the rest of the tape. There was nothing. The fourth tape came to an end and Neeley pulled the earpiece out and leaned back in the chair, contemplating the stars overhead. There was no indication that Hannah had a clue where John was or what he had been doing.