“She’s grieving. I don’t know how I know that, but I know it.” He looked Jo in the eyes. “She’s coming back with us. And I don’t give a damn if the resort won’t allow pets.” His voice left no room for doubt.
Jo opened her mouth as if to object, but then reconsidered. “All right. I’ll clear it with Frisco, and then we’ll head back to the condo.”
Chapter Eleven
The Bend
Early December
Lucinda Patterson had never been west of Philadelphia. After Thanksgiving she flew from New York’s JFK to Des Moines International, rented a Beamer and used the GPS app on her Blackberry Smartphone to navigate her way to Turners Bend and the phone’s email function to make arrangements with Chip to meet at a local bar. The drive was turning out to be a surreal experience. The miles of desolation made her feel as if she were Sigourney Weaver in a cheesy Armageddon movie. When she pulled off the state highway and drove into what Chip had referred to as “downtown,” the set of a ’30s movie sprang to mind. She fully expected to see a lanky Jimmy Stewart saunter down the street. Christ, Lucinda, she told herself, this is going above and beyond the call of duty for a client.
She moved from brilliant sunshine into the Bend’s dim, dusty interior, and, lifting her saucer-sized Versace sunglasses, she saw every head turn toward her and all chatter cease. She shook her highlighted blonde hair and with raised chin and a disinterested scowl on her face she made her way to the bar, her high-heeled ankle boots tapping as she crossed the floor. She perched her taut bottom, clad in skin-tight jeans, on a barstool next to the only guy in the place who was wearing a tie and contemplated her drink order.
With sarcasm dripping from her voice, she said to the bartender, “I don’t imagine I’m going to get an Appletini here, so I’ll have your best scotch on the rocks.”
The guy next to her stared into the mirror behind the bar and straightened his tie. She saw him ogling her leopard print silk shirt, unbuttoned enough to reveal a black bra, and her form-fitting, chocolate brown suede jacket.
“Name’s Hal Swanson,” he said. “I sure hope you’re not just passing through Turners Bend.”
Lucinda’s icy smile matched the diamonds on her tennis bracelet as she lifted her glass to him. “Rest assured, I have no intention of passing through Turners Bend. I plan to turn around and exit this town as soon as possible.” She ignored his gaze, finished her scotch and ordered another.
A few minutes later Chip entered the Bend. “Lucinda, sorry I’m late. I see you found your way to a drink. Hi, Joe,” Chip said to the bartender, “I’ll have a Leinnie.”
Chip and Lucinda moved to a table and for the next two hours they labored over the stack of legal documents Lucinda presented. She prided herself on being a tough negotiator.
“Now that a movie contract is on the table, my fee will increase. I need a bigger cut and all my expenses, of course, to travel to California to seal the deal. I could convince Glasser to let you do the screenplay, but honestly, Chip, I think he won’t be happy unless we agree to a professional screenwriter. Let’s face it, you’ve had some success with The Cranium Killer, but a lot of that is due to my skills and ingenuity.”
She sensed that Chip was only vaguely interested in putting up any resistance when he said, “Whatever, Lucinda. In this whole book publishing process so little money has trickled down to me that I doubt I’m going to get rich on this movie deal, especially after you’re taken the cream off the top.”
“Oh, cry me a river. I’m going to make you into a national success yet. That is unless you go all J.D. Salinger on me and become a recluse in this podunk town.”
In the end she persuaded him to consent to her outrageous “finder’s fee.” As a small concession she decided not to bug him for more chapters of Brain Freeze, at least not today.
She noticed Hal remained at the bar listening to the conversation between Chip and herself. He kept his booze, a beer and a bump, coming until he appeared to be well sloshed.
The door opened and a teenage girl entered. She stopped to adjust her eyes to the dim light in the bar and scanned the patrons.
“Oh, hi, Dad,” she said to Hal. The girl’s voice had a timid, uncertain quality. She glanced warily around the bar and made her way to Lucinda and Chip’s table. As she approached, Lucinda was astonished that this young girl with auburn hair and a sweet smile could actually be the daughter of the whiskey-soaked cretin at the bar.
“Excuse me, you’re Mr. Collingsworth, aren’t you? I recognized your car outside. My mom, I mean Dr. Swanson, would like you to come to the vet clinic as soon as possible.” There was a note of urgency in her voice.
Chip quickly stood and shook Lucinda’s hand. “I think we’re finished. You drive a hard bargain, Lucinda, but I appreciate your fine work on my behalf. Good luck in Hollywood. I’m sure we’ll be in touch soon,” he said as he followed the teenager out of the bar.
Lucinda started gathering her documents and putting them into her briefcase. Then she saw Hal unsteadily approach with a drink in each hand.
“A gorgeous woman like you can’t leave without at least one for the road.”
Lucinda hesitated. Oh hell, I need one more drink to fortify me for that drive out of the boondocks and back to life in real time.
Hal sat down next to her. He reeked of booze mixed with expensive cologne. She noted the heavy gold bracelet on his right arm and the Rolex watch on his left. The embroidered initials on the cuff of his shirt and the quality of his silk tie did not escape her eye, well practiced in spotting money. “So, your name’s Hal, right? Just what do you do in this pathetic little burg?”
“You’re looking at the guy who owns this town. Half the people here wouldn’t have a job, if it weren’t for me. Own AgriDynamics, a wind turbine manufacturer supported lavishly by our dear federal government. We’re ‘green.’ Green like money,” he said as he took a swig of his Johnny Walker, dribbling some down the front of his tie.
“That’s not all. I’ve got a little something going on the side. Won’t be long and I’ll be living the life of leisure and luxury in the tropics, baby.
“See those two hombres over there.” Hal pointed to two men seated at a back table, both facing the door. “You might think they’re your ordinary run-of-the-mill illegals. Don’t let the disguises fool you. They’re business associates of mine, and they’re making me a very rich man.”
Lucinda had no idea what he meant and could have cared less. The two were dressed like farm workers, but she sensed there was something strange about them. As one lifted his can of beer, his denim jacket sleeve fell back to reveal some serious bling, and she noted his hair … not cut at a Iowa barbershop, she bet. Not giving it too much more thought, she planned her exit line.
Hal moved his chair closer and began to focus his blurry eyes on her boobs. Lucinda downed her drink and brusquely excused herself. “Sorry, big boy, you’re too green for me. Ciao.” She flipped her hair, put on her sunglasses and wiggled her hips as she left the Bend.
Chapter Twelve
Brain Freeze
Two Harbors, Minnesota
Dr. John Goodman and Jo drove to the condo in silence, each lost in private thoughts. Once, when he glanced at Jo, he saw the headlights of a car reflecting off the tears on her cheeks. Caddy snored softly in the back seat, exhausted by the day’s events.
They arrived back at the condo at three in the morning. Jo muttered good night and wandered into her bedroom, closing the door with a soft snick behind her.
For the first time in a long time, John was at a loss for what to do. Too wound up to sleep, he settled himself on the leather couch and propped his feet on the coffee table. Caddy lay stretched out next to him, her head resting on his lap. He rubbed her ears absently, thinking about the last twenty-four hours.
He was tempted to knock on Jo’s door. He told himself it was to make sure she was okay, but he knew he was kidding himself. Holding her in his arms again was what he really wanted to do.
To comfort her. To feel the length of her against him.
At one point, he had even padded over to her room in his stocking feet, and lifted a hand to rap on her door. But his hand hung in the air. In the end, he walked back to the couch. He rubbed his palm down his face, hearing the rasp of the stubble on his cheeks and chin. Caddy wiggled, breaking into his thoughts.
“Poor old girl. Hey, you must be hungry by now. C’mon. Let’s go check out that overpriced bag of dog kibble we picked up at the Gasmart.” John walked to the kitchen, the golden retriever following on his heels. Flipping on the light switch, he squinted in the harsh fluorescent glow. He rooted around the cabinets until he located a casserole dish for her food and another for water. Setting the dishes on the floor, he watched Caddy pick at the food.
“Not too hungry, huh? Got a lot on your mind? Me too.” He picked up a chunk of the food and held it out to her. She gingerly licked it from his palm. He picked up another piece and offered it to her once more. “What do you think I should do about her?” John indicated Jo’s bedroom with his thumb.
Caddy evidently decided she was hungry after all and buried her muzzle in the food bowl, crunching loudly. John chuckled softly. “You’re a big help. I come to you for advice and you ignore me.” He sighed and walked back to the living room.
John turned at a sound. The room was dark, except for the kitchen light in the next room and the faint glow of the security light outside the condo. Jo stood in the doorway of her room, wearing a long t-shirt. She said nothing, just stood there, studying him. The outline of her legs was clearly visible. His mouth went dry and lust warred with concern.
He swallowed. “Jo, are you doing okay? You should, um, get some sleep. It’s been a long, rough day for you.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry about Sid.”
Her voice sounded like gravel. “He helped me out when my dad died. Sometimes, I can’t make sense of things. You know?” Her voice broke.
He took a cautious step towards her, afraid of scaring her away. “Yes. I do know. This was a savage thing. A wasteful thing.” He took another step.
She walked the last few feet between them and threw herself in his arms. She began to sob. At first, he stood still, worried that no matter what he did, it would be the wrong thing. They had known each other for such a short amount of time, but he already knew her pride, her reserve. John respected that about her. Still, he longed to bring her comfort. He was startled to realize that he hadn’t ever felt that way before. About anyone. I’ve known her for less than twenty-four hours.
He wrapped his arms tight around her slim body, his chin resting on the top of her head. She fit perfectly. He closed his eyes and felt her shoulders shake, felt the dampness of her tears soaking into his shirt. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Shh. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure this out.” He stroked her hair, loving the way the curls wrapped around his fingers.
Her shuddering slowly subsided, and he felt her relax into him. They stood together for several minutes, not moving. He was aware of her warm softness against his chest. His heart pounded a rapid staccato. Let me do the right thing here.
John gently pushed her away from him. “I think maybe we’d better get some sleep. Tomorrow—I mean today—is going to be a crazy day.” He put a finger under her chin and lifted her head to look into her eyes. “Are you going to be all right?”
She stared into his eyes for a moment and then nodded. “Thanks. I’m not usually like this. So … so weepy.” She crinkled her nose. “So girly.”
“Your secret is safe with me. You’ve been through a big shock today. I’m glad I was here. Now get some sleep. That’s an order, Special Agent Schwann.” She smiled at his light teasing and saluted him.
He watched her walk back to her room. Running a hand through his hair, he let out the breath he’d been holding. He whistled softly. “Caddy, here girl. Let’s get some sleep too.”
When Jo stumbled out of bed the next morning, she was surprised by the smell of coffee. She wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a cup for herself. Taking a cautious sip, she closed her eyes in gratitude. The bitterness of the coffee was just what she needed to get going this morning.
She felt well rested, considering she’d only slept five hours. Actually, it was the best night’s sleep she had had in quite some time.
A note was propped up next to the coffee maker. In neatly printed block letters, it read: Doing a few laps at the pool. Join me? J.
Jo smiled. Carrying the coffee cup with her, she walked into the living room. Pulling her legs up under her she turned on the television remote. She flipped through the channels until she found a local news program.
There was Detective Frisco, giving a summary of the basic facts, looking red-faced and angry. He closed his speech, “This crime was carried out by cowards.” He pointed at the camera. “We’re gonna find you. Make no mistake about that.” Cameras flashed as he walked away from the podium. Glad he’s on my side. The more she worked with Detective Frisco, the more she respected him. He would work as hard as she in bringing Sid’s killers to justice.
Jo clicked off the television. She returned her coffee cup to the kitchen sink and leaned into the cabinet, thinking. Her thoughts kept straying to the smear of Sid’s blood she had seen on the floor of his lab. Jo shook her head, clearing away the image. “I have to focus. Can’t help Sid if I can’t get his killers.”
Sitting down at the kitchen table, she pulled a tablet of paper to her and began making notes. Jo possessed an organized mind and it helped to map out a course of action in writing. Starting with the end result of putting those responsible in jail, she backed into every step she would need to take in order to get them there.
After sketching out the process and rearranging the sequence of events, she was satisfied that she had put together an actionable plan. She snatched her cell phone off the counter and called into the Bureau’s offices in Minneapolis.
An hour later, Jo turned her head when she heard the key card in the door. John walked in, a t-shirt clinging to his torso and a towel wrapped around his waist. Caddy padded behind him. Jo blushed as she noticed his broad shoulders and flat stomach through the damp shirt. Memories of being held against him last night came rushing back, and she felt a heat rise up in her belly.
“For God’s sake, it can’t be more than ten degrees outside. What on earth … ?” She couldn’t seem to form any more words.
“Wonderful morning for a swim. The hotel’s got a great pool. I put in a few laps and then jumped into the hot tub afterwards. Warmed me up enough to run back to the condo. Caddy’s been keeping me company.” He reached down to pet the top of her head. She barked once and thumped her wet tail against Jo’s leg.
Jo raised an eyebrow. “So yesterday you couldn’t warm up, and today you’re traipsing around the snow like a winter hare. Go figure.”
He grinned broadly. “I adapt to my surroundings. Hey, let’s go grab some breakfast. I’m starving.”
“Are you always this annoyingly perky in the morning?”
“Once I’ve had my morning swim, oh, yeah.” He turned on his heel and strode into his bedroom. She heard the shower running.
Jo looked down at Caddy, who had stayed for a morning ear scratch. “Caddy? Tell me the truth, am I in trouble here?”
After a hearty breakfast at a mom-and-pop log cabin restaurant on the way to Gooseberry Falls, they drove back to the condo. Just as Jo put the Toyota in park, her phone buzzed. “Hey Frisco. Saw you on the news this morning. Any new developments?” She listened for a bit, and nodded her head occasionally.
“Yes, I’m sure I want to do this. Let me know when it’s set up, will you?” She flipped the phone shut.
When Jo didn’t say anything for a moment, John asked, “Anything new?”
Jo shook her head. “No, not really. He had a thought about getting me into NeuroDynamics’s headquarters, though.” She stared through the windshield for a moment and then turned in her seat to face John. “Just migh
t work. His wife’s cousin has the cleaning contract for the building. He’s going to try to get me into the three-to-eleven shift. Not exactly what I originally had in mind, but I’d be as good as invisible. The best part is that I’ll have access to the building after hours.”
John nodded. “I’ll hang out here and do some more research on microchip technology and get an idea of what we’ll need to prove our case. Then you’ll know what to look for.” He fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket. “Uh, Jo. Aren’t you worried about the legality of any information we find this way? I mean, will it hold up in court?”
“While you were hanging out in the hot tub, I obtained what’s commonly referred to as a ‘Sneak and Peek’ warrant. They’re more often used in investigations into the illegal manufacturing of controlled substances, where officers want to confirm the presence of chemicals and to assess the stability of the labs without divulging the investigation. However, it should suit our purposes quite well.”
John rubbed the back of his neck. “How does it differ from regular warrants?”
“It gives us a great deal of flexibility, since we don’t have to notify NeuroDynamics that we’re searching their facilities for seven days. Hence the ‘sneak’ in the name of the warrant.
“And the ‘peek’ part?”
“It means we can take a look around and come up with probable cause for a regular warrant. We’re going to have to be careful, though. We’re not allowed to disturb or physically seize anything while we’re checking things out. We’ll have some leeway, but there have been a lot of challenges in the courts to these types of warrants, as you can imagine.”
John nodded. “And the last thing we want is for these guys to get off on a technicality.”
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