The Totems

By Donna Bender Hood

Garret Hunters earliest memory of Banister House was one of fear. Upstairs, the dead animal heads and the dark oil painting of the long gone Banister men bothered him. But downstairs, the wooden animal carvings that decorated the double doors of the formal dining room frightened him the most. Only in his adult life would he learn how much influence they had over him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 15, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524583958

Donna Bender Hood

Donna Bender Hood is the author of nine other books, all of which are light fiction, romance, and evildoings. Besides writing, she enjoys gardening. Donna is also a twenty-year quilter and is active in a local quilt group that raises funds for their volunteer fire department by hosting a quality outdoor quilt show every September.

Book preview

THE

TOTEMS

DONNA BENDER HOOD

Copyright © 2017 by Donna Bender Hood.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2017902420

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-5245-8397-2

Softcover   978-1-5245-8396-5

eBook   978-1-5245-8395-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 02/15/2017

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

756350

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Big Bang #1

Chapter 2 Early Bird Breakfast

Chapter 3 Hanover Hall

Chapter 4 Jute

Chapter 5 The Assignment

Chapter 6 The Blue Tattoo

Chapter 7 Hard Year

Chapter 8 Varied Education

Chapter 9 Four More Years

Chapter 10 The Red Lantern

Chapter 11 Robbie Roberts

Chapter 12 The Beach

Chapter 13 Florida

Chapter 14 Bansiter vs. Hunter

Chapter 15 Big Bang #3

For Berta

Other Books by

Donna Bender Hood

Asa

The Double B

Bennington House

The Women of Silver Bend

Flint Mesa

The Anna Quilt

The Red Kettle Caper

THANK YOU, JIM

CHAPTER 1

Big Bang #1

If you were to ask any visitor attending a boat and watercraft show what he thought the odd craft was, he would most likely say it was a funny-looking, rubber raft. Right now, two men sat quietly in one of those small, unusual-looking craft as it moved easily and quickly through the water. They were not thinking about the raft’s appearance or construction.

They had considered it a raft, and when they first saw it, they had agreed it was odd in appearance, but they also suspected it was not rubber. They were correct. It was fashioned from a new material called PolyGlide. PolyGlide was the happy result of an accident in the laboratory of a company named New Chemistry, which was located in Atlanta, Georgia.

Also located in Atlanta was a company named Boats of Boston, and they made all sorts rafts. It was a profitable coincidence. To them, PolyGlide was a miracle fabric because it had almost no friction when moving through either fresh or salt water. It could be molded into odd shapes, was almost indestructible, and was available in a wide range of colors, which included a nonreflective black. It was the perfect skin for their new line of small, low-profile boats which more than duck hunters and fisherman would find useful.

Because of PolyGlide’s ability to be molded into odd shapes, the top edges of the sides of the raft were not straight but were fashioned into gentle, irregular lumps. In the dark and if the craft was silhouetted against the lights of a harbor or the setting or rising sun, there was no straight line or man-made angle to give away the craft’s presence.

Unfortunately, production costs put the purchase of a raft out of range of all but the wealthiest outdoorsmen. But there were other buyers. The rafts came in two-man, four-man, or six-man sizes, and the flat black was almost invisible in nighttime waters. The United States government had placed a large order for a classified number of the little boats, as had the governments of Canada, Brittan, and Israel. There was also a waiting list.

Then there was another group of buyers, silent men in expensive suits, wearing dark glasses paying with bank drafts that were drawn on banks in the Bahamas or Hong Kong. Quiet gossip suggested drug cartel or terrorist connections, but the talk was quiet.

Tonight, the two men sitting in the raft, both wearing wet suits, knew none of this. They did know they were moving at a surprising rate of speed on just the waves and the incoming tide, toward a not-too-distant beach, and damn, they hoped the beach was empty.

John Ells and Garrett Hunter studied the beach and also the night sky. A few minutes ago, the light in the only beach cottage for miles around had gone out and again they both hoped it was because the occupant of the cottage was alone and had retired for the night.

John’s head was bent in such a way that Garrett knew John was listening to some information on his earpiece. Garrett studied his friend. They both worked for Star Tech, a firm which designed and installed high-tech security systems to a large variety of locations mostly civilian but more and more often also for the government.

Just last year, they had installed an amazing, high-tech security system in an abandoned dairy farm on a lonely, wind-swept plain in North Dakota. The checks were from the United States Department of Agriculture. Somehow, Garrett doubted that.

He and John had started out being assigned to the same Star Tech projects and that had developed into a solid friendship, although the men were different in several ways. Garrett was older by two years and single. John was just recovering slowly from his second divorce.

Only late last Wednesday night, he sat at Garrett’s breakfast bar with his final divorce papers spread out in front of him. He had looked into the bottom of his empty beer glass and stated he would never get married again, and when he did, it would never be to a woman who had a career. He did not comprehend the mixed message of his statement. He spent that night on Garrett’s sofa.

Garrett had had experienced a couple of deep relationships, but in all honesty, he reasoned it had also been career conflicts which had brought those relationships to an end. But then again, maybe it had been the old sad memory of the unhappiness between his father and mother and later his stepmother which kept him from committing.

Shit! It was his very last relationship and what he had thought was love that had resulted in tonight. Because of love, he and John were sitting in the silly-looking raft, heading toward a maybe empty beach somewhere on the coast of Oregon. Hopefully, he could convince the cottage occupant, Caitlin O’Connor, to leave everything behind, including her rental car, her belongings, and come with him quietly and quickly. Caitlin had been the love and she had ended the budding relationship painfully.

Garrett rethought the whole situation. Just because he and Caitlin were once romantically (almost) involved, Garrett was supposed to convince her to leave her cottage, hike down the beach to join John in the unlikely looking raft so that they could head out to sea to be picked up by the crappy-looking fishing boat, all without making any noise and hopefully without being discovered. Garrett figured she would be pissed, and with Caitlin, that didn’t happen very often. This was not likely to go well.

John looked up. Quietly, he said, Forty-five minutes to max cloud cover. Garrett nodded. They both studied the night sky. Scattered clouds played hopscotch across the half moon casting odd moving shadows across the water and the beach. It was a perfect night for a clandestine operation, if that was what tonight was.

Garrett considered the circumstances. In his opinion, neither he nor John was Agent 007 or Rambo types. No. Both of them were just average citizens, but possibly because of his asshole father, Garrett reasoned he had a better and more varied education than John.

Their boss, after talking to some government men behind closed doors, had told them they would do this little nighttime rescue operation and here they were. They were both physically fit, but it was Garrett who would go in the water, swim to shore, and hopefully return with Ms. O’Connor to where John would be waiting with the raft.

John was also deep in thought. He looked at Garrett and wondered just what had happened between Caitlin and Garrett. He thought they had the beginning of something special. When the breakup occurred, he had asked but only once.

In reply, Garrett barked, She said she had a child.

So? replied John.

That’s what I said and she walked away was how Garrett had ended the conversation with both anger and hurt in his voice.

The raft rocked gently and Garrett shifted his position, looked at the moon, and thought about how he had met Caitlin. He did not want to think about that or remember, but he did. It had been over a year ago. They were both in the San Francisco International Airport at the same time waiting for their separate flights when they happened to run into each other. Damn! He could see it like yesterday.

Garrett remembered he had been hungry. Breakfast in Seattle had been good but a long time ago and lunch had been on the run because his flight connections were terrible. Now he had over two hours before his last and final homebound flight and he had decided to have an early supper.

Garrett was a frequent flyer and familiar with most major U.S. airports as well as several major airports outside the country. He actually liked certain airport food and he knew that often the major terminals offered fine food to advertise their particular area of the country. At the moment he was leaning toward Chinese food and was about to enter the Panda Pagoda when he recognized a woman coming from the opposite direction.

He had remembered quickly. Her name was Kate, Kate O’Connor. He had met her three weeks ago at the industry conference in Chicago. Not only had they been introduced and visited at the meet-and-greet cocktail party on Friday night, she had delivered a short but probably one of the best speeches of the whole day on Saturday.

He caught her eye. She did not recognize him and he was not surprised. He moved in her direction and then saw a flicker of memory cross her face.

She said, Star Tech, at the conference. It was not unexpected that she remembered his company before she remembered his name. Star Tech was one of the up and coming companies offering high-tech security.

She smiled again. Garrett Hunter.

He smiled back. Yes, Star Tech, Garrett Hunter and the conference.

There was a brief pause. What are you doing here?

Passing through, she sighed.

Me too, with a long layover. I’m about to have an early supper. Do you have time to join me?

She appeared to be thinking it over. I actually do have almost two hours. Do you have a suggestion? He motioned toward the entrance of the Panda Pagoda.

She studied the restaurant entrance and then rewarded him with a bigger smile. Okay, but Dutch treat.

He replied, I’m not sure Dutch treat goes with Chinese, but we can try. She gave him a smile that said bad joke and together they turned into the restaurant eating area. It was early and many tables were free. They selected a table by the big windows where they left their carry-on pieces.

I’m taking advantage of the buffet, he announced.

Somehow she was not surprised. Even though he did not appear to be overweight, she thought he looked like a man who enjoyed food. I’m ordering from the counter, she replied. A few minutes later, they met back at the table and she marveled at his plate, which was almost overflowing.

She also noticed his large saucer of yellow Chinese mustard. That mustard is very hot, she warned.

I do know that, he laughed. He looked at her plate, a generous bed of crisp greens on which rested four giant prawns. She had a side dish of fresh orange slices and a small cup of some kind of salad dressing with little seeds in it.

Kate sat with her back to the window and he sat facing the outside and the view. The sun glanced off her hair and he liked the red highlights. She noticed he watched the activity on the tarmac below them with interest. Hunter Garrett also ate his food with obvious enjoyment and still managed to keep up with pleasant conversation.

Between bites, he talked. Kate, I really enjoyed your speech. Everyone I talked to thought it was one of the better speeches of the conference and that included the keynote speech by your company’s CEO, Howard Dodson. Without missing a bite, Garrett went on. I’m sorry, but in everyone’s opinion, his speech was poorly written, badly delivered, and nothing more than a sales pitch for Dobson Security and Alarms.

Before he could continue, she held up her hand. I want to clear up something. My name is not Kate. It is Caitlin. Caitlin Ann O’Connor. You are right. Mr. Dodson’s speech was terrible and my speech, thank you for the compliment, is what got me fired.

Garrett had been eating and also steadily looking out the window. She wondered if he had even heard anything she had said. Caitlin was beginning to think he was a little rude. His gaze returned to her, and by the look of surprise on his face, she comprehended that he had heard and understood everything she had said.

Caitlin. Caitlin, he said, repeating her name slowly. I like it, but how is it you were Kate at the conference?

At the first Dobson meeting I attended, Mr. Dobson called me Kate and it stuck. Except for important papers like my paycheck, information about my 401K, and my termination papers, everything was Kate. She looked disgusted.

What problem with the speech? You gave a good, to-the-point, informative speech about customer service, which is something that too many companies ignore. Garrett acted interested but continued to watch out the window.

She answered anyway. "I was supposed to talk only briefly about customer service then speak longer on what a cutting-edge firm the Dobson Company is. In short, I was supposed to prep the attendees for Mr. Dobson’s speech.

I didn’t. I spoke about just exactly what was printed in the program. For that, I was fired for not being a team player. Caitlin stopped talking. Garrett was again looking out the window, and his expression had turned sober and serious.

He stood up abruptly and with so much force his chair made a loud noise causing other diners to glance at them. I think we should get out of here, now!

Caitlin was somewhat alarmed and decided she was not going anywhere with Garrett Hunter. He was turning out to be rude, but he gave her no choice. Leaning across her, he scooped up her carry-on and then picked up his own. With a strong grip on Caitlin’s upper arm, Garrett hauled her out of her chair and began to propel both of them toward the exit.

She tried to free herself from his grip. Let go! I’m not going anywhere with you. Take your hands off me, she sputtered, trying not to make a scene. It did no good. He did not release her arm or slow down and people were beginning to watch as he moved the two of them toward the door.

They quickly passed a table where a couple, a man and his wife, was seated. The man stood up as if to intercede, but his wife saw the expression on Garrett’s face and pulled her husband back down. Caitlin tried again to shake Garrett’s hold on her arm. She was unsuccessful.

Before she could try and jerk away again, she felt the floor move beneath her feet followed almost immediately by an explosion that caused her ears to hurt and then ring. Without even looking behind her, she knew instinctively that the large glass windows overlooking the tarmac had shattered. Caitlin was correct. Screams and shouting now filled her ears.

The windows had imploded, sending shards of jagged glass into the eating area and all over the early diners, especially those who had tables near the windows. A gust of air from outside struck her in the back. All sorts of items, plates, napkins, some pieces of cutlery, salt and pepper packets, and even food items from the buffet were air borne. The air was filled with fine dust and dirt.

People were screaming, but it was different than at first. Someone called for help. A light fixture fell from the ceiling, landing on the pretty glass cover over the buffet, and from the kitchen, Garrett thought someone yelled for a fire extinguisher.

A huge cloud of smoke and fumes billowed in from the outside and overtook them, obscuring almost everything. Garrett continued to pull her toward the door. He could tell she was not longer fighting him. Caitlin was moving with him and holding his hand tightly.

Outside of the restaurant and on the concourse, there was panic. People were running in all directions as long as it was away from the chaos at the Panda Pagoda. Garrett guided Caitlin to a windowless space against a wall he thought might contain a building support. He released her hand and studied her face. Are you hurt?

No. I don’t think so. She was shaky and she was rubbing her arm.

We should get away from here. Possibly they will close down this concourse and possibly part of the airport. We need to see if it affects our gates and or flights, he stated firmly then added, Did I hurt your arm?

Before she could answer, an elderly lady with bleeding cuts on her face and arms emerged from the smoke of the restaurant. Whether it was shock or seeing the confusion on the concourse, she turned and disappeared back the way she had come.

Caitlin looked stricken. Shouldn’t we help or do something?

Quietly but still firmly, Garrett answered, First, we are not equipped to help, and second, often there is a second bomb set to detonate sometime after the first one in order to hurt the first responders.

Bomb? That was a bomb? She supposed her voice was squeaky.

He paused before he answered. Yes. I believe it was. It could have been some sort of industrial accident, but I am leaning toward a bomb, a small one but effective just the same. He motioned toward the group of emergency personnel coming at a run toward the damage and confusion. Sirens were sounding from several directions. We’ll just be in the way. Come on.

She allowed him to link her arm with his and they began to walk toward the other concourse where both their departure gates were located. They had not gone more than fifteen feet when a stern voice said, Sir, madam, stop right there. I need to ask you some questions.

Of course, thought Garrett. Someone in authority wanted to talk to them about what they might have observed. He and Caitlin stopped and turned.

CHAPTER 2

Early Bird Breakfast

A security guard approached them and he was moving quickly. He was young, and Garrett wondered how long he had been on the job. Garrett would have been amused to learn it was only the young man’s second day at work and he was almost hyper with the excitement.

Garrett did notice that the young man’s uniform coat was open, he was carrying a side arm, and the snap on the holster was undone. Garrett glanced at his nametag. It read D. Hoover. The expression Junior G-man crossed Garrett’s mind. However, he did not laugh or smile but remained serious.

I need to ask you some questions, Jr. G-man Hoover announced slightly out of breath. He glared at Garrett. You were seen bolting from the Panda and forcing this lady to accompany you just before the explosion. I want you to tell me why.

Garrett thought that Hoover’s manner of questioning was not the most tactful but nevertheless he would answer after he gave the young man his business card. However, as he started to reach for a card inside his jacket pocket, he saw Hoover’s hand drift toward his gun.

First I’ll give you my business card and then I’ll be happy to tell you what I observed and answer any questions. Garrett offered, quietly retrieving the card very slowly.

Hoover studied the card and caused Caitlin to turn away to hide her grin as he exclaimed. Wow. You work for Star Tech? What do you do?

I design and sometimes test custom security systems, answered Garrett honestly. Hoover was still looking at the card, so Garrett continued. Ms. O’Connor and I were seated in the Panda near a window where I had a view of the tarmac. I noticed a small van pull up and park. Although the van looked like other airport vehicles, I thought it was a poor paint job. From my vantage point, I could see the top of the van and whoever had done the painting had missed a spot on the roof. At one time that vehicle had been tan in color.

Hoover was now writing in a small notebook and Garrett gave him time to catch up and then continued. The driver exited the vehicle, leaving the door open. He was carrying a fancy shopping bag like from one of the airport gift shops. He was dressed in what appeared to be regulation coveralls and a baseball cap. His hair was medium brown and a medium length. I could not determine his ethnicity. Garrett paused again because Hoover was having trouble spelling the word ethnicity.

Garrett concluded, The driver was wearing flip-flops. That’s when I decided we should leave and the sooner the better.

Hoover stopped writing and looked up at Garrett. Flip-flops?

Yes. You know. Shower shoes.

U-huh. Turning to Caitlin, Hoover asked, And what did you see?

She handed him one of her own cards and replied sweetly. "I’m sorry. I didn’t