Curds and Whey Box Set

by G M Eppers

  “Can you freeze it?” asked Billings.

  The Trooper, focused on his task, replayed the short clip frame by frame until it froze on a shot showing the front end of the vehicle. It appeared off-white, kind of a sepia-tone in the hazy light, though it was hard to tell the make or model from just the front end. It seemed the Trooper’s instinct of the yellow pickup was a good one. Unfortunately, the plate itself was completely illegible. Zooming in reduced the resolution so much that it appeared more like Klingon than actual letters or numbers. Not even Sylvia and her magic eye could decipher it. Nevertheless, the Trooper pulled out his cell phone and called his station, arranging an APB on the yellow truck using the license plate from Ross Nonegan’s registration.

  After that, at least for a while, the investigation was a waiting game. We waited for the airport contingent to check in. We waited for a call from the public plea in Banana’s press conference, and we waited for results on the APB. The atmosphere in the lab was tense.

  Darwin was massaging Banana’s neck and shoulders as she sat watching the clock on the wall, checking her wristwatch, and looking up at the Trooper to see if he was on his cellphone yet. Roxy sat crocheting with the two female lab techs watching and oohing and aahing over the glarf like it was a 4th of July fireworks finale. She was getting used to the admiration and didn’t seem uncomfortable with it anymore, taking it all as a vote of confidence that defied my questionable assessment of the project. Nitro was still examining the potential of the SQUISH-E. That thing could keep him occupied for hours. Billings was keeping near Trooper Ferguson, one hand on his cellphone as he waited for it to ring. Agnes, Avis, and Sylvia, were all patiently accepting questions from some of the techs. The twins were allowing their connecting band to be examined. They weren’t shy about it at all. Curiosity was far better than revulsion. I overheard Sylvia recounting her accident, but she never offered to lift the eye patch. And I hovered, alert to the slightest activity that might indicate progress in the case.

  Out the little bit of window at the back I could see a glimpse of the terrace and of the sky outside. It was late afternoon now. The cloud cover persisted. And somewhere, I knew, two men were traveling with a raccoon on its last nerve. My heartbeat doubled as I realized our first mistake.

  Chapter Two

  I rushed over to Ban, where she sat in front of Darwin, still enjoying her neck rub. “Ban!” I said to get her attention. “How tame is Clara?”

  “What do you mean? You saw her at the telethon, didn’t you. She climbed all over me. She’s tame as a kitten. She’s…” her bottom lip started to quiver.

  I squatted down to look at her at eye level and spoke clearly, enunciating each word. “Yes, that’s with you. But how will she have reacted when they tried to take her out of the bag?”

  Ban stared at me, not comprehending the question at first. Then, slowly, she realized. “She’d fight them.” She stood, letting Darwin’s strong hands fall off her shoulders. Turning her head to Darwin, she continued, “She’d fight them tooth and nail! I said it myself to the press. Oh My God. They are strangers, and she’ll be in a strange location. She’ll – damn. If they hurt her –.” Her lip began to quiver again and new tears glistened in her frightened eyes. I could see it, too. The Nonegan brothers were endangering themselves by dealing with a wild animal, but humans always have the advantage. They could easily inadvertently hurt Clara defending themselves from her teeth and claws.

  “She would have gotten violent, right? She’d bite and claw?” I kept the idea of Clara having the upper hand in my mind. I refused to consider the alternative.

  “Of course. Without me there, or any of us, she’d go insane with fear long before withdrawal could set in.”

  My suspicion confirmed, I pulled out my cell phone. “We need to start calling the hospitals. Do you have the phone numbers?”

  Excited to have something to do, Ban said, “Yes. In the computer. Sometimes we have to consult. We have contacts at every hospital within 100 miles, including some in Iowa.”

  “Let’s start with the closest ones. I don’t know how long they might have kept her in the bag, but Sylvia was right. By now they must have put her in a carrier of some kind and even though she’s used to carriers she’s not going to want them putting her there, am I right?” Ban nodded and went to a computer terminal. She punched up the contact list and sorted it for hospitals, then sorted that list geographically. “If we get a hit,” I added, “we’ll know which way they’re going. And we can go after them.”

  Noticing my activity, Billings came over to see what was happening. “Sir Haughty just checked in. They are in place at the airport watching the men’s room.” He leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Haughty and Badger also report seeing Miss Chiff use her flask.”

  “What did you tell them?” I whispered back.

  “What you told me. We’ll deal with it later. But it’s definitely sounding like something we’ll have to deal with. Um…I could use some advice on that.” For the first time since we’d arrived in Minnesota, Billings seemed uncertain.

  “We’ll figure it out.” And the whisper campaign came to a close. I had never run an intervention, but I had some idea of the end goal. It was beginning to look like that was what we’d have to do.

  “You care to share something with me, Mom?” Billings said, loud enough for Ban and Darwin to hear, as he noticed Ban excitedly punching keys on a computer terminal.

  I winced. Yes, I should have informed Billings about my theory before pursuing it, technically speaking, but I figured this was soon enough. It was more important to get the information gathering started ASAP. “I think it’s likely that one of them has been bitten,” I said simply.

  He hung his head. “I should have thought of that. Hospitals. Doctors and nurses don’t always see the news. They might not have heard your press conference.” He practically clapped his hands. “They could be held in an ER right now getting prepped for rabies shots. Ban, print that list. We’ll split it up.” In seconds, their high speed printer spit out three pages of hospital and clinic names with phone numbers. Billings took two of the pages and ripped them in half, walking off to delegate phone calls. Ban and I took the last page and split it between us.

  I was on my fourth call with no success when a young man in brick red scrubs came up to us, where Ban and I were sitting on wheeled chairs at a table that held clean beakers and vials. He glanced at the paper between us, then caught Ban’s eye. “Hey, Ban, I need to go pick up my kids,” he said, checking his wristwatch. His black hair was streaked with gray that matched his eyes. “I’ll take them to my mother’s and come right back. I want to be here for you.” He stretched out a hand to take hers and she let him pull her to her feet.

  She accepted a peck to her cheek. “Sure, Rudy. No problem.” Distracted, she went back to her list without another thought.

  An alarm went off in my head and I knew we couldn’t let Rudy leave. We couldn’t let anyone leave. My eyes scanned the vast room until I found Billings. “Hold on, Rudy. Just for a second, please.” I said, being intentionally vague.

  He was curious. He had no idea I was about to ruin his plans. Without being asked, he followed me. On the way, I tagged Butte and motioned him to come as well. Butte shrugged his uncertainty at Rudy and the three of us approached Billings who was standing and leaning against a room divider as he dialed his phone.

  “Billings,” I said.

  Billings held up one finger as he listened to his phone. “No one like that? Okay, thank you. Please call the authorities if anyone matching that description comes in, would you? Thanks.” He ended the call and looked at me. “What is it, Mom?”

  “This is Rudy,” I said by way of introduction. “He needs to go pick up his kids.”

  “Okay.” Billings conceded, clearly unsure of why I was telling him this. Rudy, still mystified, was on the verge of leaving.

  I turned my attention to my ex. “Butte, tell me, how did Gary and Ross know where to
find Clara? Did they work here?”

  That was all Billings needed. He quickly followed the logic to determine what could be a very serious problem: Someone in the lab had helped the Nonegan brothers kidnap Clara.

  He didn’t even wait for Butte to say what everyone knew, that neither Gary nor Ross had ever worked at the Mayo Clinic, let alone in the animal research lab, and would not have a clue regarding the alley, the terrace or the time frame. Billings’ expression turned grim and he grabbed Rudy’s arm, saying, “Sorry, Rudy. I can’t let you leave.”

  Rudy shrugged him off. “Like hell. I need to pick up my kids and take them to my mother’s. I said I’d be right back and I will. You can’t keep us here against our will.”

  “Um, actually he can,” I said. Normally it would be me making the call to quarantine, but this was definitely Billing’s territory today. “You’ll have to call and make other arrangements.”

  Rudy, understandably, was furious. “What the hell for?” His voice had gotten louder and attracted attention.

  CURDS members and lab techs gathered to see what was happening, which was exactly what Billings had wanted. He kept his voice calm and professional and allowed Rudy to fume. Ban pushed her way through to defend her colleague. “Mr. Montana, what is the meaning of this?”

  “I’m sorry, Ban.” He spoke up so everyone could hear. “None of the lab workers is leaving this lab until this case is solved.” Lowering his voice again, he spoke to Ban directly, “I hate to tell you this, but you have a mole. Neither Ross nor Gary knew the layout of the Mayo Clinic, knew where the habitats were or how and when to break into them. We could ask for someone to confess, but I really don’t see that being successful.” He scanned the small crowd, as did I, and saw that the techs were now looking suspiciously at each other. This was not ideal, either. “We could waste time doing interviews and trying to determine who the mole is, or we could concentrate on rescuing Clara and let Gary or Ross tell us who helped them.”

  No one in red scrubs was happy about that, not even Ban. “No,” she said, in complete denial. “That can’t be true. No one here would do that.”

  He met Ban’s icy gaze with his own. “Sylvia, you’re on the front door. Agnes and Avis, you take the back.” The girls obediently moved to their assigned stations. “I’m sorry, Ban,” he said again.

  Rudy, his cell phone in hand, got Billings’ attention. “Look, I’m sorry I got so angry. It is really inconvenient, but I see where you’re coming from.” He lifted his phone to show us, “and when we find out who the mole is, permit me to hold them down while you beat him, or her, to death.” He tapped his screen a few times and put the phone to his ear as he walked away.

  I started moving back to the table where my part of the phone list sat, but I didn’t have to finish. Nitro came running up to us waving his own phone, so excited you’d think he’d won a SQUISH-E of his own. “I got a hit! I got a hit!”

  Nitro’s excitement was contagious. The lab techs didn’t gather, but looked up from where they sat suspecting each other. Nitro was a little out of breath from his adrenaline rush, but he gulped air and calmed himself down. “Clinic. Right outside of Minneapolis in a place called Inver Grove Heights, north on highway 52. They treated a man for a bite wound on his third distal phalanges accompanied with deep scratches on the back of his hand. He said he got it caught in a car door, but they could tell. God, any idiot could tell. They’re going to hold him there for us.”

  “Did he give a name?” I asked.

  Nitro shook his head. “Not a real one. John Jones.” That was the best they could do? Well, we didn’t know if the injured party was Ross or Gary, but he appeared to be alone. That meant the other was still holding Clara, probably in their vehicle. I was thankful for the cooler weather. At least we didn’t have to worry about Clara getting overheated trapped in a hot car. The question was which one was guarding her: the smart quiet one, or the talkative idiot?

  The team was ready to go instantly. Even Knobby, who was jingling the keys to the bus in anticipation.

  “Wait,” said Billings. He looked around at his human resources and made some quick judgements. I could see that these decisions were wearing on him, but at least this one was a positive development. “I’m going to want Sylvia along. Nitro, you stay here with the twins and make sure no one leaves.”

  “Aw, shucks,” said Nitro.

  “Sorry, I’m running out of people and we’re going to a clinic. Knobby has to drive, I’ll need Sylvia’s eye. Only one of the Nonegan brothers is injured and the other might be hiding. I want Roxy to keep me legal and Mom to keep me centered. That leaves you and the twins for guard duty.”

  “We could call the others back from the airport,” suggested Nitro. “Inver Grove Heights is north. You were right. The drop is a decoy.”

  “No time for that. Besides, this doesn’t mean they don’t have a confederate handling the drop. I want to keep them there. We’ll fill them in on the way by phone. In the meantime, you could try to uncover the mole,” he added, as if it were an afterthought.

  Trooper Ferguson waved a hand. “There room for me on your bus?”

  “You betcha,” Billings replied. Most of the lab techs were actually from other states, but evidently he’d heard one of the locals talking and had picked up the idiom like a wildflower. “You are a state trooper and if I’m not mistaken Minneapolis is in your state. We always appreciate assistance. But don’t you have your own car?” He paused a beat, going over the possibilities in his head. “You know, we could get there faster with a police escort. You got flashers and a siren?”

  “Both. My prowler is parked in an adjacent lot.”

  “Hold on a minute,” I put in. “Billings, the decision is yours, but if we go there with sirens blaring and lights flashing, they will bolt. They might even panic and hurt Clara.”

  “Good point, Mom. Okay, Fergie. You’re on the bus.” His leather belt creaking, the Trooper slipped on his coat once again. Billings shrugged. “It sounds like an easy take down to me, but you’re welcome to tag along. You probably want to see this through. I get that.”

  “That’s part of it,” Fergie admitted, zipping his leather jacket half way.

  “I’m coming, too.” This came from Ban.

  “Of course you are,” said Billings. “When we get Clara back, you are the first person she needs to see.” I liked how he said it with such confidence, as if our success was inevitable. There was no toying with ifs or hedging with maybes. Simply when. Like it was already on the calendar. A done deal.

  It looked like Darwin wanted to invite himself, too, but Ban put a gentle hand to his chest. “Darwin, I want you to stay here. Right now,” she added, looking around suspiciously, wondering who had betrayed her, “you’re the only one I trust.” She hugged him close and kissed him, then hugged him close again.

  “Be careful, Ban,” said Darwin. “Those guys sound dangerous.”

  Their hands clutched together and parted reluctantly as Ban finally got her coat and joined us. Billings led us out. Our party of ten was now a party of eight: Billings, Knobby, Roxy, Sylvia, Trooper Ferguson, Ban, Butte and myself. I zipped up my coat, hiding my CURDS vest, but still taking comfort in my array of gear like a child with a security blanket. I put myself at the back of the group, gave Nitro a last farewell and a “stay in touch,” then closed the door to the lab behind me.

  As we entered the front lobby, we could see that the scrum of reporters was still in attendance waiting for any new developments. Billings hesitated only briefly, then pushed through the door, the words “no comment” already on his lips. The rest of us followed wordlessly, leaving the reporters to speculate on where we were going. Knobby hurried ahead of us to open up the bus. “Nice bus,” said Butte. “It’s short.”

  “It’s a rental,” I told him.

  The bus rocked as we climbed aboard and found seats. Roxy, aka Mrs. Claus, went all the way to the back of the bus, tucking her canvas bag into the rear corner and sitt
ing next to it. “That stays on the bus from here on out,” I told her.

  “That was my plan. It’s an hour and a half to Inver Grove Heights. I’ve seen the movie Fargo about eight times. The scenery in Minnesota would put a cup of dark roast in a coma.” She flipped her red hair and picked up her crochet hook. “It’s either this or a B12 injection and Billings made Nitro stay behind.”

  I took a seat in front of her and sat sideways, leaning against the side of the bus. “Don’t panic, Roxy. It’s not a problem. I’ll let you know when it becomes a problem.” I grinned a little to soften the comment. Aside from not having the authority to give her orders, which both of us knew she was well aware of, it was travel time. She wasn’t required to be on high alert.

  She made a “harrumph” noise and commenced crocheting.

  Knobby was strapping in at the driver’s seat. With everyone aboard, he closed the folding door and cranked up the engine, letting it idle. “Trooper, you’ll have to navigate me,” he said. “Which way am I going?”

  Trooper Ferguson took a front seat to the right of Knobby, where he could talk. “No problem, um…I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

  “Call me Knobby.”

  “Knobby? Let me guess. Long story?”

  “No kneecaps. Training accident.” Knobby considered the last question. “Not so much.”

  “You can call me Fergie, if you want. Go out the way you came in and turn left.”

  Putting the bus in gear, Knobby began driving.

  As the bus bumped along, Ban took a seat behind the Trooper. She glanced at the incomprehensible scribble on the seat back in front of her, then turned her head and looked out the window. Billings sat down across the aisle from me and pulled out his cell, ignoring his graffiti , which was an old style emoticon of someone sticking out their tongue, crudely drawn and off center in both directions. That was a sign of how old this bus was. These days no one used emoticons anymore. It was all animated emojis, and with the real high end equipment you could send a 3D hologram both racially and sexually correct. I leaned back and closed my eyes, listening to the soft click of Roxy’s crochet hook against her fingernails and the murmur of Sylvia sparring with Butte on my behalf, trying to convince him that Uber is a bad thing. Good luck with that, I thought.