by B R Snow
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “But we’ve bought ourselves a month.”
“Well, the first thing we’re going to do as soon as we get the chance is to spay and neuter all of them. Whatever lineage Peters was trying to create stops with that litter of pups.”
“Absolutely. But we’ve got some time. As long as they’re caged, we’re fine.”
“You ever feel like a hypocrite?” Josie said, sitting up.
“Because we have several dozen dogs locked up?”
“Yeah.”
“No, I don’t. Do you?”
“Not really,” she said. “But this situation has got me thinking. We keep all the dogs locked up, but our goal with the hybrids is to figure out a way to let them run wild. I know the situation is different, but still.”
“There’s a huge difference,” I said. “Our dogs are social creatures and need to be protected until we can find the right home for them. And they have a pretty good life here.”
“Are you kidding? They have a great life.”
“And if it were possible for the hybrids to live here, we’d be the first ones to make it happen.”
“I know,” she said. “But I can’t escape the thought we’re basically doing the same thing Peters was.”
“Some sort of four-legged, social engineering?” I said.
“Yeah, something like that,” she said.
“It’s not like we’re messing around with their genetic makeup. We’re just trying to figure out a way the hybrids can live a normal life without being a threat to anyone.”
“You’re right,” Josie said. “But this whole situation is such a…”
“Mess?”
“There’s no need to get technical,” she said, then stretched back out on the couch. “Yeah, mess is definitely the word for it.”
We both glanced at the door when we heard the knock.
“Come on in,” I said.
Chief Abrams and Detective Williams entered and looked around.
“Hard at work, huh?” the Chief said, sitting down across from me.
“We’re just trying to sort a few things out,” I said. “How are you doing, Detective Williams?”
“I’m doing the same thing,” he said, sitting down next to the Chief.
“Any luck?” Josie said, sitting up.
“Well, we haven’t found anything to disprove our theories,” he said. “But we haven’t found any proof we’re right, either.”
“I hate when that happens,” Josie said. “How much longer can you make them stick around the area?”
“Not much longer,” Detective Williams said. “We need something to provoke a reaction. But we don’t have a clue what we could use.”
“I’d hate it if we couldn’t close this one,” the Chief said. “I can’t stand the thought of people getting away with murder.”
My phone buzzed, and I checked the number. I put the phone on speaker and answered on the second ring.
“Hello, Gerald.”
“Hi, Suzy. What’s the news on the baby front?”
“Still waiting,” I said, gently rubbing my stomach. “You got some news for us?”
“Us?”
“I’m here with Josie and Chief Abrams and Detective Williams.”
“Hi, folks,” Gerald said. “Well, I don’t know if I have anything useful, but I do have some company names Charles Howard is involved with.”
“It’s a start,” I said, reaching for a notepad.
“The guy is very good at covering his tracks,” Gerald said. “I’m sure my folks will be able to find more, but they’re going to need some time to do any real digging.”
“Maybe one of the names will give us something to work with,” I said, then glanced at the two cops who nodded in agreement.
“Sure. You ready?”
“Go for it,” I said.
“Okay, but there’s a bunch of them. Consolidated Imperial, High Tech Limited,” Gerald said, pronouncing each name slowly. “General Technologies Incorporated, Twenty-Twenty Enterprises, Global Systems and Strategies.”
“Hang on,” I said, my neurons flaring. “Go back a couple and say it again.”
“Which one?”
“Twenty-something or other.”
“Twenty-Twenty Enterprises?” Gerald said.
“That’s the one,” I said. “What kind of company is it?”
“There’s only a general description at this point,” Gerald said. “Let’s see, Twenty-Twenty Enterprises is some sort of scientific research outfit.”
“How about that?” I said, jotting the information down.
“Does that help?” Gerald said.
“It might,” I said. “But go ahead and read the rest of the names.”
He did and I, along with the Chief and Detective Williams, scribbled the names down. When Gerald finished, I tossed my pen aside.
“That’s all I’ve got for now,” Gerald said.
“Thanks, Gerald. We appreciate it.”
“You want my guys to keep digging?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a call as soon as we know more,” Gerald said. “And don’t forget to remind your mother to call me as soon as the baby is born.”
“Will do,” I said.
“I need to run. Good luck.”
He ended the call, and I put my phone away. Then I noticed the looks all three of them were giving me.
“What?”
“Are you going to tell us?” the Chief said. “Or are we going to have to play twenty-twenty questions?”
“Good one, Chief,” I said, laughing. “You remember when I found Peters’ password to his computer?”
“I do,” the Chief said.
“The password was Project Org 2020,” I said. “That can’t be a coincidence.”
“I’d be surprised if it was,” Detective Williams said. “But what’s the connection?”
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “2020 might indicate the year.”
“That makes sense,” Detective Williams said. “Maybe whatever project the name is referring to is supposed to be completed in 2020.”
“Or it’s the year the project is supposed to start bearing fruit,” I said. “If it’s some sort of scientific research project, it probably takes years to come together, right?”
“It’s certainly possible,” the Chief said. “But what the heck does org stand for?”
“Organization, maybe,” Josie said. “It makes sense it would be a part of the company name.”
“Organic?” Detective Williams said. “Organize?”
I sat quietly listening to their suggestions, then my neurons flared, and I bolted upright in my chair.
“Holy crap,” I whispered as I reached for my laptop and entered a few keywords. A few seconds later, the results of my search came back. I scanned the first page. “That’s it.”
“Here we go,” Josie said, getting off the couch to look over my shoulder. “Holy crap.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” I said, grinning over my shoulder at her.
“What have you got?” Detective Williams said, leaning forward.
“The org stands for organ,” I said, turning the screen toward the two cops. “Peters was working on growing human organs in a lab.”
“That’s impossible,” the Chief said.
“Take a look at some of the titles of the recent research studies,” I said. “A lot of people have been trying to do it for quite a while.”
“And there’s been some breakthroughs,” Detective Williams said. “Geez, I think you’re onto something.”
“But who’s doing what and why would they kill Peters?” the Chief said. “If he was working on something like this, it has to be worth billions. Peters had to be their golden goose, right?”
“Maybe he was at the point where they didn’t need him anymore,” Josie said.
“Or Peters was getting cold feet about what he was doing,” I sa
id. “Maybe he finally developed some sort of conscience.”
“Growing human organs in a lab?” the Chief said. “How is that even possible?”
“Hey, they cloned a sheep back in the nineties,” Josie said. “And look at the breakthroughs in DNA research.”
“And Peters being the eccentric he was, probably loved the idea of figuring something out nobody believed was possible.”
“So, his work with the hybrids was just some sort of cover?” Josie said.
“Maybe. Or just a hobby,” I said.
“A hobby?” the Chief said. “Remind me never to make fun of Freddie’s origami again.”
“I guess my question is, does this make Charles Howard more or less of a suspect?” Detective Williams said.
“That’s a good question,” I said, nodding at him.
“Thanks. I have my moments,” he said, then laughed. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I guess it depends on what Peters was up to. If he had a recent breakthrough, you wouldn’t think his primary investor would kill him off.”
“But if Howard found out Peters was holding out on him, or trying to cut another deal behind his back, I can make it work,” the Chief said.
“What about Charlotte?” Detective Williams said. “Maybe all the work she did to invalidate the will was actually related to getting controlling interest in Peters’ research.”
“I can make that work, too,” the Chief said, frowning.
“Me too,” Detective Williams said.
“Clarissa,” I whispered.
“What about her?” the detective said.
“Whatever the motive was to kill him off, my gut tells me she’s somehow in the middle of it,” I said.
“You think she could be playing one side off against the other?” Detective Williams said.
“Either that or she’s figured out a way to get a cut regardless of what happens,” I said.
Chief Abrams and Detective Williams gave it some thought then stared at each other.
“What do you think?” Detective Williams said.
“It’s a tough nut to crack,” the Chief said. “It would be a lot easier to figure out if Lamplighter’s assistant wasn’t dead.”
I let the Chief’s comment roll around in my head, then I leaned forward with my elbows on the desk.
“What if she weren’t?”
“What?” Josie said.
“What if she wasn’t dead?” I said over my shoulder.
“Suzy, please tell me you’re not thinking of trying to recreate her in a lab?” Josie said.
“Funny,” I said, then looked at Detective Williams. “Have you told any of the beneficiaries Althea was dead?”
“No, I thought I’d hold that nugget back just in case we needed it,” he said.
“Well played,” I said, beaming at him. “We need to figure out a way to get the word out that Althea is back in town.”
“Doing what?” the Chief said.
“Convalescing, of course,” I said.
“In the hospital?” the Chief said.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “At Larry the Loser’s house.”
Chapter 25
My phone buzzed just before six, and I checked the number and answered immediately.
“Hey, Millie. How’s it going?”
“It’s deader than the dark of winter here,” she said in a controlled whisper. “But guess who just showed up.”
“Really?” I said, perking up. “Who’s she with?”
“She’s by herself,” Millie said. “And she’s here for dinner.”
“Great,” I said. “Since you’re whispering, I assume she’s sitting at the bar.”
“She is.”
“Do you recognize her?”
“The woman Althea was with had red hair and wore glasses,” Millie said. “I guess she could be the same woman, but I’m just not sure.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “We’ll be there in five. Keep a couple of seats at the bar open.”
“That won’t be a problem,” she said with a laugh then ended the call.
Josie was already pulling on her coat, and she held the door open for me as we left the office and headed for the registration area. Jill was sitting in front of the computer, and she glanced up when she heard us approach.
“What are you still doing here?” Josie said. “Go home.”
“I will in a minute,” she said. “I’m just finishing up tomorrow’s schedule. Where are you guys off to?”
“The restaurant,” I said.
“Maybe we’ll see you there later,” Jill said. “Sammy and I are celebrating the anniversary of our first date.”
“Nice,” I said. “The wine’s on us.”
“Thanks, Suzy.”
We left with a wave and headed for my SUV. I opened the door and waited for Josie to give me a hand getting into the passenger seat. She stifled a snort as I climbed in then shut the door behind me. She hopped into the driver seat and glanced over.
“Not a word,” I said, glaring at her.
“Wouldn’t think of it,” she said as she started the engine. “You were quite graceful. All things considered.”
“Just drive.”
A few minutes later, we parked in the lot behind the restaurant. Determined to do it on my own, I slowly worked my legs out of the car onto solid ground then exhaled loudly.
“Man, this kid better hurry up,” I said, then started a slow lumber toward the back door.
We found Chef Claire standing in front of the salad prep area. Several old cookbooks were open and lined up in a long row. She was studying them intensely.
“Hey,” she said, glancing up. “I didn’t think you guys were coming in tonight.”
“Clarissa’s here,” I said, removing my coat and hanging it on a hook. “What are you doing?”
“Just reviewing some old recipes I might be able to use for retro night.”
“What’s tonight’s special?” Josie said.
“It’s seafood gumbo. And for the fish-phobic among us, I made a smaller batch with sausage and chicken.”
“Thank you, Chef Claire,” I said.
“You should eat more fish,” Josie said, heading for the door that led to the dining room. “It’s good for you.”
“So’s yoga,” I said, gently punching her on the shoulder. “What’s your point?”
We entered the empty lounge, gave Millie a hug, then sat down on either side of Clarissa who was making short work of what looked like scotch on the rocks.
“Hi, Clarissa,” I said, slowly working my way onto the stool.
“Hey,” she said, glancing back and forth at us. “I was beginning to think I was going to be the only one here tonight.”
“It’s March,” I said with a shrug.
“I can’t believe you guys stay open year-round. You must lose your shirts in the winter.”
“Yeah,” I said. “But people like it.”
“I can tell,” she deadpanned as she glanced around the empty room.
“Everybody’s a comedian,” I said. “Are you here by yourself?”
“I am.”
“Then you should join us for dinner,” I said.
“Yeah, that would be great,” Clarissa said.
Millie arrived with a fresh drink for her and a glass of wine for Josie. She placed a club soda with lime in front of me, and I took a long sip.
“Have the cops given you the okay to leave the area?” I said.
“They did. I’m free to go,” Clarissa said.
“It’ll be nice to get your life back to normal, huh?” Josie said.
“It certainly will,” Clarissa said, then turned to me. “When’s your due date?”
“A week from tomorrow,” I said, rubbing my belly.
“Do you know what you’re having?”
“A girl.”
“Good for you,” Clarissa said, tossing back what was left of her drink a
nd pushing the empty glass forward. She began stirring the fresh one. “Let’s hope you have a better relationship with your daughter than my mom did with me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “You want to talk about it?”
“No, I do not,” she said, then took a long sip.
“Got it.”
“Did you get a chance to call Larry?” Josie said, leaning in front of Clarissa.
“I did,” I said. “He can make it. He said she’ll be fine by herself for a few hours.”
“Good,” Josie said. “I imagine he can use a break.”
Clarissa, her interest piqued, glanced back and forth at us.
“Larry?”
“Yeah, Larry Lamplighter,” I said.
“The lawyer who screwed up Jeremy’s will?”
“The one and only,” I said, then chuckled. “It’s going to take him forever to live that one down.”
“We can only hope,” Clarissa said. “So, what are you doing with him?”
“We invited him to family dinner tomorrow,” I said. “We do it one night a week.”
“That sounds like fun. My mother’s idea of a family dinner was us going through the drive-thru in the same car,” Clarissa said, then frowned. “You mentioned he needed a break. From what?”
“He’s been taking care of someone who had an accident,” Josie said, casually tossing it out.
“What sort of accident?”
“Car crash,” I said. “His former assistant went off the side of a mountain in Colorado.”
Clarissa flinched and glanced back and forth at us as if her head were on a swivel.
“She went off a mountain and lived?”
“Yeah, apparently the doctors said it was a miracle,” Josie said. “Her car landed in a bunch of pine trees that somehow managed to break her fall. Well, at least enough for her to survive the crash.”
“Wow,” Clarissa whispered.
“She was very lucky,” I said.
“She certainly was,” Clarissa said, staring straight ahead into the mirror behind the bar. “I mean, she had to be, right? Going off a mountain like that. How long has she been out of the hospital?”
“Well, I think Althea got into town a couple of days ago,” Josie said. “Larry flew her back as soon as she got released. But she’s still pretty banged up. Larry said it’s a round-the-clock job taking care of her.”