Sun Storm

by Marlow Kelly

  She was safe in a police station, and yet a shiver of unease tingled down her spine. She had been in danger since the moment she’d met him. He had terrified her, forced her into her car, and threatened her. No, that was wrong. He hadn’t threatened her. Yes, he had shoved her into the car, twice, but both times she’d had been in a dangerous situation. Men were menacing her, threatening to rape and kill her. And then once she’d escaped, there’d been the relentless cold. David had also cared for her, giving her his coat to use as a blanket and his socks when he realized her feet were bare.

  She wiggled her toes. The memory of him running his finger along her feet while he checked them for frostbite sent a rush of heat through her body. It had been so long since she’d had any physical contact with the opposite sex that even the touch of a man who looked like he’d just crawled out of a cave was enough to excite her.

  She had formed an opinion about him based on his appearance. It wasn’t so much the scruffy hair, beard and scar, although they didn’t give a good impression. It was his penetrating, emotionless stare. Or perhaps that was his reaction to the intense situation. After all, he had arrived with her attackers. Yet, he had rescued her. When she thought back to that awful moment in the cabin, when Handsome held a gun to her head, she realized David had been trying to protect her even then.

  The young desk sergeant held the phone against his shoulder. “Will your friend be back?”

  “No.” She shook her head.

  David was one of the good guys, and she hadn’t even thanked him for his help. This again proved she wasn’t a good judge of character, especially where men were concerned. That was one of the reasons she worked alone, so she wouldn’t make further costly mistakes.

  She needed to see if the frigid temperatures and last night’s activities had damaged the prototype. She was about to take it out and examine it when a tall, broad man with cropped, dark hair and startling blue eyes appeared in front of her.

  “I’m Special Agent Finn Callaghan, and you are?”

  “Marie Wilson, Dr. Marie Wilson.”

  “Medical?”

  “No, mechanical engineering and organic chemistry.”

  “Impressive. How can I help you?”

  “I was attacked, and the man who saved me said I should talk to you.”

  His sharp eyes narrowed, assessing her. “Are you the woman David called about?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please follow me.”

  After going through security, Agent Callaghan led her to a shabby room with a chunky mud-colored couch, a scratched coffee table, and two chairs. There was a counter in one corner that held a half empty coffee pot and a stack of disposable cups. He motioned for her to sit.

  “I’m surprised the FBI would have an office in a town like Granite City.” As soon as the words slipped out, Marie inwardly groaned. Whenever she was nervous she engaged in small talk.

  “We have several offices in Montana.” He sat opposite her and placed a pad of paper and a pen on the table.

  “I never realized—”

  “We don’t specialize the way they do in big cities. We have to deal with everything from domestic terrorism to fraud, sometimes in the same day. Now, down to business. The desk sergeant said that an unsavory character walked in off the street, asked for me by name, and described me perfectly.” Callaghan’s brow wrinkled. “I assume he’s talking about David Quinn.”

  “Yes, he said you were a pain—difficult, and no woman would—you aren’t married.”

  The agent scowled. “Describe him to me?”

  “He’s tall with shaggy, sandy-colored hair. He has a scar that runs down the side of his face, he wears a beard, and he has these intense pale eyes. Oh, and he said he’s a soldier, or he was a soldier, Special Forces. At first I thought he was going to kill me, and then I thought he was a kidnapper, but he brought me here. I guess I was wrong about him.” There was a dull ache in her chest, a reminder that she’d misjudged him.

  “That’s Quinn.”

  “He said he would call you to arrange a meeting.”

  “Good, did he say where he was going?”

  “He said he had to quit his job. Is he a criminal?”

  “I’ve known David Quinn for over sixteen years, and he’s always been honorable, forthright, and direct. I don’t see him being part of a plan that involves harming a woman. Can you tell me what happened? Start at the beginning.”

  “Around five this morning, four men burst into my cabin.”

  “What did they want?”

  “They were looking for a prototype.”

  “Ah yes, David mentioned the theft of a solar panel.”

  “I didn’t steal it. It’s mine. I invented it.”

  Agent Callaghan picked up his pen and clicked the end. “Where are you staying?”

  “I rented a cabin about an hour out of town, off route eighty-nine. The men emptied my backpack. One of them put a gun to my head, and two of them were going to rape me, but—”

  “David stopped them.”

  Her mind flashed to the man with the scarred face as he nudged the gun away from her head. “How did you know? I thought he was there to kill me. It wasn’t until he brought me here I knew I was safe. I thought he was dangerous.”

  “Oh, you’re right, he is dangerous. But the man I know would never hurt a woman. To be honest, I find it hard to believe he was part of a home invasion.”

  “He said it was his first and last day on the job. How do you know he wouldn’t hurt...?” She clasped her arms across her chest to ward off a sudden chill as cold radiated down her body.

  “Tell me, were you staying in a one-room cabin with a red roof on Deerborn Road?

  “Yes, that sounds like it.”

  “I know the place. It’s out in the county. This case comes under the jurisdiction of the police, but lucky for you, Granite City and Elkhead County consolidated thirty years ago.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means the bean counters thought it was a good idea, and I have to admit, when it comes to law enforcement, it does simplify things.”

  “How?”

  “Although it has a small population, Elkhead County covers a large area. It seems that before consolidation, someone could commit a crime in the city and then hideout in the county where they didn’t have the funding for a large police force. Now the police don’t have to worry about jurisdiction in the county. They can chase the bad guys over the county line. I’ll just grab an officer. Okay?”

  “David said he trusted you.”

  “I don’t have the authority to investigate a home invasion, but I’ll ask if I can sit in on your interview if that’ll make you feel better.”

  She nodded. “Please.”

  “Can I get you a coffee or maybe a glass of water?

  “No, thank you.”

  Agent Callaghan left the room and returned a few minutes later with a man who wore a police badge and a gun, and a set of cuffs were attached to his belt. He had short, gelled air and sharp, dark eyes. An intricate tattoo peeked out from the open neck of his grey dress shirt.

  “Marie this is Detective Ramirez. He’s with the Granite City-Elkhead county police department. He’ll be conducting your interview.” Agent Callaghan stood by the door.

  Ramirez sat in the armchair opposite her, pen in hand. “Why don’t you bring me up to speed?”

  “Four men burst into the cabin I’d rented.” Her hands shook as she recalled the moment when she’d been so helpless, so defenseless.

  “And you said this happened an hour out of Granite City on route eighty-nine?”

  “That’s right.” She told the detective everything she could remember, which wasn’t much. She tried her best to describe the handsome leader and the two thugs, but her memory blurred. Most of the time she had been focused on David, believing he was the biggest threat.

  “What was the purpose of your visit to Montana?”

  “I’ve developed a solar panel that
uses plant technology. I was to run tests on the prototype today and then meet with Professor Hargreaves from Montana Tech tomorrow—I mean today. He’s interested in my research. I couldn’t miss the opportunity to talk to him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He’s well respected because of his work in developing electrical conductive polymers. The Department of Energy will consider funding my work if I can prove it has merit. I’m out of money, and without funding from the DOE, there’s no way I can develop my prototype into a viable product.” And the last seven years of work would be for nothing.

  “And have you?”

  “Have I what?

  “Made progress.”

  “I’ve made leaps in developing a new photovoltaic cell—”

  “And Professor Hargreaves thinks your work has merit.” The detective tapped his notepad with his pen.

  “I hope so. I planned to bypass the cabin’s generator using my solar panel and measure the amount of electricity produced.”

  “Is there any reason you chose this location?”

  “Yes, I needed to know how the prototype handled the cold, and I also wanted a location away from the urban heat created by large cities.”

  “And if your tests were successful, the professor will endorse your work?”

  “Yes, we were supposed to look at the data together.”

  “Is he the only person in Montana who knows about your prototype?” The detective glanced up from his notes, observing her with kind eyes.

  “Yes…I mean no. Public Domain Energy contacted me. They’re interested in sponsoring my research, too. I agreed to stop by their offices here in Granite City with an analysis of the trial.”

  “Public Domain Energy, the power company? The same outfit who provides most of Montana with electricity and natural gas?”

  “Yes. But I’ve been holding off. My father—he’s a lawyer—says they will want control over my discovery.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that although I conceived it and developed it, they will own the patent and be able to market it as they wish. I will get a percentage, but I won’t have any say in how it’s developed.”

  “What’s the name of the person you were supposed to see at PDE?”

  “Hold on, I have his card somewhere.” Marie searched through her backpack until she found the small, white business card with shiny blue letters. “Marshall Portman.”

  She handed the card to the detective who scribbled the name and phone number on his report.

  “Do you have a phone number for Professor Hargreaves, too?” Ramirez asked, not looking up from his paperwork.

  She retrieved her smartphone and tapped the screen, then placed the phone on the coffee table in front of him.

  The detective stood. “I’m going to make some calls. Are you sure I can’t get you something?”

  She shook her head.

  Then he addressed Agent Callaghan. “Can I talk with you outside?”

  They left the room, shutting the door behind them.

  She collapsed back in her seat. Her feet were heavy, as if her boots were weighing them down. She unzipped her coat a fraction in an effort to relieve the chest-crushing sensation of suffocation. She wanted to leave. Every nerve, every fiber screamed at her to run, to go home to Seattle.

  She covered her face with her hands. Maybe she could scrounge up the money to return to Montana and arrange another meeting with the professor. If not, then all her hopes for her future were gone. Over. The past seven years of work would be for nothing unless she could think of a way to find additional funding. But at this moment, she was done, exhausted. All she wanted to do was curl into a ball and sleep.

  Chapter Four

  “Ms.…I mean Dr. Wilson, I’m sorry to tell you, but Professor Hargreaves is dead,” Detective Ramirez said as he entered the interview room.

  Marie shot to her feet. “What? No. That can’t be.” This must be a bad dream. It couldn’t be real.

  “I don’t have all the details yet.”

  “How? What happened? When did—”

  “It seems he was killed last night in a single car collision on an icy road. I won’t know more until I look into it. How well did you know him?”

  She sat. Then stood again. “Not well. I contacted him a couple months ago, asking him to read my research. He emailed me saying he needed concrete data to prove my theories. That’s why I’m here. I was supposed to…” She stared at the detective. He’d returned to the room alone without Agent Callaghan. “Is it connected to…? No, that’s not possible. Is it?”

  “If you’re asking if his death has anything to do with the attack on you, I don’t know. As I said, I need to look into it. What were you supposed to do?” Ramirez poured himself a coffee.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You said, ‘You were supposed to…’ and then you trailed off.” He took a sip of his drink, grimaced, and then added some sugar.

  “Oh, just as I told you before. I was going to set up my prototype at the cabin. He’s well respected in the field of electrochemistry. I was hoping he would—”

  “Recommend your work to the Department of Energy. Yes, you’ve said that. What else?” He pointed to the couch, indicating without words that he wanted her to sit.

  She crumpled onto the lumpy cushion. “Nothing.”

  “And you weren’t involved with him in any other way?” He took the seat opposite her and opened his scribbler.

  “No, we’ve never met in person. I only talked to him on the phone once to confirm our appointment tomorrow. He sounded nice. He said he was looking forward to meeting me. Are you sure this had nothing to do with—?”

  “Do you know where Quinn planned to go after he left?” Ramirez recorded something on his notepad. His writing was indecipherable. The long, scrawled characters resembled an intricate spider’s web more than letters.

  “He said he had to go and quit his job.”

  “Do you know who he worked for?” He pinned her with his incisive gaze. She doubted Detective Ramirez had any trouble when it came to character assessment. He probably would have recognized David as one of the good guys.

  Her brow crinkled. “I don’t remember him mentioning his employer. I only know that it was his first day on the job.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Yes, I tried to run away, but he caught me. He said we were both caught up in… something.”

  “Something?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t think he knew what was going on. Look, I’ve told you everything I know. I’m tired, and I want to go home. Can I leave?” She needed to put some space between herself and this place. Yesterday when she’d arrived, she’d been so full of hope, and now she was beaten. Her life’s work was destroyed. She would try to go on. She’d get a job and work on her panel in her spare time, but she was crushed. The only academic who’d shown an interest was now dead. His endorsement would have repaired her damaged reputation within the scientific community.

  The detective examined the report in front of him. “You’re not a suspect. You’re a victim. I have no reason to keep you here. The fact they were looking for a solar panel suggests you were targeted. Where do you intend to go?”

  “Home to Seattle.” She couldn’t afford a hotel, and even if she could, she wasn’t sure she should remain here. Her time in Montana had been terrifying, and even if she wanted to stay, there was no point. She should go home and assess her options.

  “Okay, how are you getting there?” He gave her a thin smile.

  “Plane, I have a return ticket.”

  “Is there someone who can meet you at the airport?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his concern for her almost palpable.

  “I’ll call my father.” That was a lie. Her relationship with her father was distant at best, but if a small fib gave Detective Ramirez some peace of mind, then it was worth it.

  “Please be careful. If you spot anyone suspicious, I want you to
call me, or better yet, dial nine-one-one. And I suggest you stay with a friend or family member until we clear this up.”

  She nodded, zipped her coat, and then slung her backpack over her shoulder.

  “Are you sure you want to leave? I really don’t think this is a good idea.” He passed her his card.

  “What else am I going to do? I can’t hang out at a police station all day. Besides, I’m probably safer in Seattle than I am here.” She pulled her hair back from her face. “I came here to test my solar panel and meet with Professor Hargreaves. Neither of those things is going to happen. As it stands right now, my career in the field of photovoltaics is over. I’ve wasted seven years of my life and spent all the money my grandfather left me chasing a dream, and now that dream is dead.”

  Ramirez opened the door for her. “I know it seems pretty bad, but you’re actually very lucky.”

  She frowned.

  “It would’ve been so much worse if Agent Callaghan’s friend hadn’t been there.”

  She inhaled and straightened her shoulders. “You’re right. I’m sure you’ve seen some terrible things in the course of your career. You don’t need to waste your time watching me wallow in self-pity. I apologize. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Ramirez smiled. “If you think of anything else, call me. I’ll have an officer give you a ride to the airport.”

  “That’ll be great. Thank you.”

  Chapter Five

  David wiped crumbs from his mouth as he left the coffee shop, heading for the PDE building. He figured he might as well have breakfast while he waited for Marshall to arrive at his office. The café had changed hands since he’d slept in its doorway as a teen. It was newly renovated, boasted modern décor, and served a nice selection of pastries and breakfast sandwiches.

  He rubbed his knuckle, recalling the moment in the cabin when Pretty Boy had pointed his weapon at David’s chest. That was careless and unprofessional. You never aimed a gun at someone unless you were prepared to use it. Thankfully, David’s instincts were still honed, and he’d managed to disarm the idiot. He needed to remember to tell Finn about the gun he’d tossed back at the cabin. Let the FBI deal with the mess.