O'Connell Bridge - Pt. 9

Arthur and Big Mac were eating tacos when LC walked into the living room. “Any left?”

Arthur nodded toward the frig. “A couple of bean burritos. Where were you the other night?”

“Belk with Cait for more mystery then to the Beach with Cait, and Betty Jo, and Betty Jo’s new boyfriend Todd. While we were there, a bi-plane pulled a banner with 'O’Connell Bridge' written on it. To make matters worse, I had to go to B&N and pick up a stack of books.”

Big Mac looked up from licking his taco wrapping. “More Mystery at Belk? Those planes fly up and down the beach all the time. It was probably a political banner. And what went down at Belk?”

Arthur crunched a taco and mumbled. “Yeah. What about Belk?”

“Dudes, like my mystery contact sent me to Belk to buy hundreds of dollars of clothes, except I don’t get to keep them. And then a plane pulled a banner across the beach.”

“Why’d you buy’m?” Arthur added. “The clothes.”

“I actually didn’t, apparently, my mystery friend did. I just tried stuff on.” He laughed. “Cait picked the underwear. Plus she went with me to find out about the bi-plane.”

“What’d you find out?” Mac tossed another wrapper toward the trash can.

“Nothing really. No info. But Cait was kinda crazy with a loose top bathing suit.”

Mac looked confused. “I thought we were talking about a Bi-plane.”

“No man. Clothes at Belk and Cait wearing a loose bathing suit.” Arthur looked in the sack for more tacos. “Why was she wearing a loose suit at Belk?”

LC tried to straighten out his friends. “You’re as confused as Murphy. We went to Belk to buy clothes, then we went to the beach, where we saw the bi-plane, and while we were at the beach, Cait kept falling out of her swim suit.”

“Ohhhh.” Mac raised a taco in salute. “I see, well I didn’t but apparently you did.”

Arthur laughed. “I saw her sneak in here about two hours after you got home the other night; she came in with that swim suit top in hand.”

“Be careful; Cait’s a female on the hunt.” Mac licked his fingers. “It may be a trap.”

LC started back into his room. “Yeah, a trap. How’d you do with that blond I saw you with?”

Mac grinned. “She’s 21, works for her dad as a clerk. Goes to UNCW part time, business major. Never been married. Had a long term boyfriend who seems to have faded away, and yes we are going to rent a movie on Thursday but we have to watch it at her folks house.”

“Wow.” LC clapped him on the back. “You’re the man, Mac.”

“That’s what I told him.” Arthur tossed his wrappers in the trash. “My mother introduced me to the pastor’s daughter on Sunday and hinted I should ask her out. I spoke to her; she’s got a boyfriend her dad doesn’t like and she’s thinking about eloping next week.”

“Okay, I gotta get ready for work.” LC tossed his clothes on the bed and pulled clean scrubs out of the drawer. He looked at the coded text on his phone. “If you want to me to live, do exactly as I say.”

LC saluted his phone. “Yes ma’am. I guess you’re a woman.”

An hour later he pulled into the emergency room employees’ parking lot. His phone vibrated with a message. “Trust me if you value my life.”

He tossed the phone on the dash of the truck. “I’m not even taking it in. This sounds like a threat and I need to talk to Mike, but not tonight.” His shift at the ER was generally uneventful and he eventually had time to get some reading in, and even consulted with an ER Intern.

“So med/grad school’s next?” The intern looked over application copies. “I filled out a dozen when I was an undergrad.”

“Yeah, I sent out feelers and applications, but no responses.”

The intern looked surprised. “Hum, must be a lot of apps. You may have to start as a general student taking graduate level science classes. Maybe a chem and a biology class, you know, something like that or just get a Master’s Degree in Biology or Anatomy.”

LC put his applications back in his bag. “Yeah, but I need to be at ECU or Carolina for the best shot at a med school.”

“I think most universities with strong bio science programs will be okay, don’t get hung up on North Carolina schools. Generally, there’s no tuition breaks for grad students.”

“Yeah, I thought about that.” LC stood and walked with the Intern past the row of empty beds. “Quiet tonight.”

“We had a rush before you came in, but this is very unusual.”

He hadn’t stopped speaking before the radio squawked about a multi car accident in Hampstead, a small town north of Wilmington, NC. Minutes later, two ambulances pulled in and the emergency room was suddenly a beehive of activity. The busy ER team didn’t get a break until five in the morning.

LC clocked out and went to his truck. His phone was still on the truck dash. He read the coded text message. “O’Connell Bridge 2200 June 30. Trust me if you value my life.”

He tossed the phone on the truck seat and drove to the Waffle House in Ogden. He waited until 6 AM before he texted Mike and copied the two coded texts and attached the photo of the billboard.”

Thirty minutes later, Mike arrived followed by a city policeman—Officer Sherman.

A waitress met them. “Whatcha having?”

Both Mike and the officer said, “Coffee.”

The waitress slid two filled cups of coffee on the table while the men seated themselves. Creamer and pink packages followed.

LC showed Mike and the officer the messages. The city policeman examined LC’s phone then said. “Let me make it clear, I’m here as a favor to Mike and I have no jurisdiction in the county, at least where we sit, but I told Mike that I would only look at the situation to see if anything can be done and give my opinion. Maybe some options.”

“Cool.”

The officer nodded at the text messages. “The threat I’m sure you will be told is implied. I mean the person is not saying I will shoot you, stab you, or even kill you, it implies that he or she will die if you don’t comply, but doesn’t say comply with what or that they’re being held against their will. And doesn’t even say your life is in immediate danger, but simply sorta talks about the value of life. At least that’s the way I read it. It’s kinda weird if you ask me. The billboard is really crazy, but in my opinion it boarders on harassment but not much more, really there’s nothing to it.”

Mike bristled. “How about all the ‘or die’ statements.”

The officer grinned. “A lawyer will tell you that there is not an act implied, I’m sure, but if you know a legal mouthpiece, you might ask.”

“I’ll run it by a guy I know.” Mike said as he sipped his coffee.

“The interesting cell phone statements to me, at least, are the ‘trust me’ words.” The policeman wrote, “Trust me,” on a napkin. Now, about those phone addresses, the codes you’re concerned about. You know you can find out who is sending the coded message; it’s really just shorthand for a full number. Go to your carrier, they should trace it for you. It’s not like they’re secret. Mike, let me know how this turns out, this is fascinating. Odds are it’s somebody just pulling your chain. If it keeps up, change your phone number or complain to the telephone company who carries your cell phone.”

“Cool, I’ll go by AT&T today.” LC was suddenly jubilant.

Mike gave him an unusual nod. “Do it, you working tomorrow?”

“Yeah. If I get to the sack by noon, I’ll be okay. Maybe people will behave all night and I can chill.”

The breakfast meeting broke up and LC headed for the apartment. Morning life as usual was bustling. Caitlin must have seen LC climb the stairs because she stood at the bottom and yelled, “Hey, I want my swimsuit back by the way, and thanks for the ice cream the other night; it gave me funny dreams; I owe you one. I bought a quart of vanilla and have chocolate syrup,” she waved like an invitation to come down. “We could do some funky stuff with the syrup.”

“As interesting as that sounds, I will pass right now. I have to go to AT&T and figure out the mysterious texts.”

“Well, I’ll be home from class at noon if you’re interested.”

LC waved. “I hope I’m in bed asleep by noon.” He opened his door and as usual Arthur was on his way out. Murphy and Big Mac were sitting at the bar, drinking coffee.

Mac pointed at his cup, “Fix you one?”

LC looked at his phone. The text read: “trust me.” He pocketed his phone and looked up at Mac. “Whose pods?”

“Yours of course. I’m going to food kitty later, I’ll replace what I used.”

“Same brand?”

“Okay.”

LC handed Murphy a paper towel. “Hey Murph, how’s the banquet business?”

“Morning LC. Banquet business sucks. How’s the ER?”

“Too busy. People seem to want to kill each other after midnight. Hey, you guys ever hear of Sim codes, or coded text addy signatures?”

Mac put down his cup. “Sure, promoters and scammers use them. Like when Facebook sends your phone a message about how many pending messages you have. The address is just shorthand for a real number.”

“Yeah, AT&T even sends me a coded text message when my minutes are expired.” Murphy held his cup up for Mac to pour coffee.

“I heard generally that same thing earlier this morning,” LC said. “Anyway, I’m going down to AT&T at nine and find out who’s sending all this mess to me.”

Murphy turned. “What mess?”

“You remember the cryptic note I got last week?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, he or she has been sending me various text messages. Coded signatures.”

Murphy spoke over his coffee cup. “They should tell you at AT&T. At least who they belong to.”

“That’s why I’m going.”

“Oh, gotcha.”

LC shook his head. “Go home, Murph.” LC’s phone rang, he didn’t recognize the number, but it was local. “Hello.”

“Mr. Brennan. This is Mary Beth Jones at the Ace Travel Agency; I have your itinerary. But, I need a copy of your passport to process the tickets.”

LC stared at the phone. “I didn’t buy any tickets.”

The woman on the phone seemed confused. “Uh, there must be some mistake. I received a bank check from you with information about a trip you’d be taking to Dublin, Ireland, on the 25th of June. Everything is already paid, including hotel. The bank check more than covered the expense, and I needed to know where to send a refund, that is, the overage is to be in Euros. And, like I said, I need a copy of your passport.”

“Where are you located?”

“College Avenue. Just down from the College Café, same side, a strip center.”

LC jotted the address on a pad. “Okay, I have to go to the phone company in a few minutes, I’ll drop by afterward and maybe we can get to the bottom of this.”

“Thank you, Mr. Brennan. We are here till five today, drop in anytime, but I do need a copy of your passport.”

“Oh, I’ll be there this morning; no problem. However, I’ll have to dig for my passport, but I’ll bring it, providing I can find it.” LC thought to himself, “What am I doing?”

Murphy appeared to watch LC going through drawers. “What’d you lose?”

“My mind, Murph. Mac, when we went to Bermuda last year, what’d we do with our passports? I know we put them in the same safe place.”

Mac pointed with his cup. “We put both of them in that fireproof box Mike gave you. Why?”

“Too bizarre to truly explain, but someone has bought me tickets to Dublin, Ireland.”

“Cool.” Murphy raised his coffee cup. “Take me.”

Mac looked more pensive. “You’re going?”

“I doubt it, sheesh, it’s all apart of this mystery.”

Murphy stuck his head in LC’s door. “I’ll take it.”

LC looked up. “You know, you may be required to kill yourself if you take the deal. I mean all the notes threaten death.”

“Really?”

LC chuckled. “Looks that way.” He stood and looked in the top of his closet and found the fireproof box buried under a stack of sweaters and sweatshirts. “Hey Mac, found the box at least. Now to find the key.”

An hour later, LC was headed down College Boulevard toward the travel agency. On the way, he stopped by the AT&T store and showed the clerk the text messages. It only took 10 minutes for the clerk to find the answer. “It’s a cereal company, you know like bran flakes. But, remember the company can sublease the addy out. Maybe some health food group is trying to generate interest. If it gets to be too much, just block it; or bring your phone in and we’ll block it for you.”

“Thanks.” LC left the AT&T store with little more information than he had when he arrived. “Off to the travel agency.”

After driving past it, LC made a U-turn and turned into the travel agency parking lot. “Found it.”

The overly made-up chunky woman with a “Mary Beth” name tag greeted him when LC walked into the small office. It appeared to LC that the office had two desks, a round café table, and a possible back room. A copy machine separated the two desks. Racks of brochures were scattered along the walls.

“Mr. Brennan, I’m delighted to meet you. As I said on the phone I need to copy a page of your passport so I can process your international tickets.”

“About that,” LC sat on a plastic chair as the agent indicated. “You said this is all prepaid?” He produced his passport out of his pocket and handed it to the woman.

“Yes sir; quite unusual. We are a relatively new agency, indeed just getting started so it was quite a surprise when we got the order with an attached check by Federal Express. Indeed, per your instructions, we are to get Euros with the refund or balance of monies. It’s going to be five or six hundred dollars at least. I needed to know where to send everything, especially the refund. And, I do have confirmation from the Ashling Hotel, your 10 nights are also prepaid.”

LC’s phone buzzed. “Trust me.”

To be continued...