“A bridge to crossifwe get to it.”
***
The next morning they set off.
“So she said she’d talk to us?” asked White as she guided the rental out of the hotel parking lot.
“I left a message. She didn’t call back.”
“Okay, so why are we going there?”
“To cross that bridge.”
There were actuallythreeseparate bridges to cross to get to Sanibel from the mainland, although all three were referred to collectively as the Sanibel Causeway.
When they arrived at the house, there was a large gate blocking access. Between Fellows’s house and the property next door, they could see the water. A call box was set up next to the gate. White rolled down her window and pushed the button.
“Yes?” a voice said.
“It’s the FBI. Agents White and Decker to see Ms. Fellows.” She glanced at Decker before turning back to the call box. “We left her a message last night.”
“Ms. Fellows is not available.”
“When will she be available?”
“You’ll have to call and make an appointment.”
“We did. But no one called back.”
“Thank you.”
“Hello? Hello?” White looked over at Decker.
“Roll your window back up,” he said.
She did.
Decker said, “Okay, I’m sure someone is watching us. Let’s drive away. Off this street we turn right, go halfway down, and wait in the parking lot of the dry cleaners we passed. That’s the only way in or out.”
“Okay, but wait for what?”
“A black Mercedes convertible was pulling out of the garage up there. But then it stopped and reversed out of sight. You didn’t notice because you were talking to the person on the box. I think that was Ms. Fellows. If we leave, she might just go on her way. And we can follow.”
“And if it’s not her?”
“Then it’s someone who knows her and we can talk to that person as a way to convince Fellows to see us. Short of that we’ll need a warrant or a subpoena, and we don’t have nearly enough evidence to get either one.”
White did as Decker asked, and they parked in the lot with the dry cleaners.
A half hour later, a black Mercedes convertible drove past. Its top was down, and driving it was a stylishly dressed woman in her fifties.
“I looked her up online last night,” said Decker. “That’s her. Hit it.”
White pulled out into traffic and kept three cars behind the Benz. They followed for about ten minutes until Fellows pulled into the parking lot of a spa. She got out and headed toward the door.
“You want to snag her now?” asked White.
“No, let the lady have a nice spa treatment. She might be in a better mood to answer our questions.”