Jacob's Grace

by C. P. Rowlands

  After they’d gone, Grace sat in front of the computers and rubbed her forehead, eyes closed. “It’s me, isn’t it?” she finally said. “They were shooting at me.”

  Tag grabbed the room service menu. “Let’s get some food and talk about this.”

  “You order. I’m going to shower and change into clean clothes.” She left for her bedroom and Tag picked up the hotel phone.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Crooked Lake resort’s homemade chicken soup and roast beef sandwiches were out of this world. Tag sat with Grace at the little table by the window, knees touching, and watched darkness cover the lake. Even the faint scent of Grace’s shower soap was soothing.

  “Help me out here. I don’t want to talk about guns or people shooting at me,” Grace said. “I’d rather talk about those little girls down the road or Maddie’s progress with Happy and Sandra in Milwaukee. She gives me updates on those two.”

  “How’re they doing? I worry that Happy’s too wounded to recover.”

  “So far, their biggest accomplishment is that Happy now uses a fork to eat and not stab other kids with it,” Grace said. “They’re making marginal progress with Sandra and Happy together, but I’ve never seen the word anger used so often.” She sighed and pushed her empty dishes to the side. “That was really good. Thanks. Would you make some coffee? I’ve got a headache and took some aspirin after I showered. God. Even my feet hurt.” She stretched out on the long leather couch in the middle of the room. Tag went toward the coffeepot. “Your sister’s really funny when she talks about you. Calls you tall, dark, and handsome.” She laughed for the first time.

  Tag gave a little snort at the tease in Grace’s voice. “I could return the favor, but I’ll be the good big sister. Our house had a lot of laughter, but we worked hard. Coffee will be ready in a minute. Move over and I’ll rub your feet.”

  Grace plumped the decorative pillow and placed her feet in Tag’s lap.

  “Mom and Dad met in college, and both say it was love at first sight. I think it still is.” She grinned at Grace. “Dad’s typically English, a little on the short side, and so is my brother. Mom and I have Granddad’s Swedish bones, but our skin and eyes and hair are all Menominee. Actually, she’s taller than Dad, but they’re both in great physical shape and still work hard.”

  “Do they have animals on the farm?”

  “Sure. Chickens, two cows and a pig or two. Used to have sheep, but they didn’t do well for some reason. They always sent me to look for the sheep,” Tag said with a laugh. “We had an old beat-up ATV for the pastures, and I loved driving it but hated those sheep.”

  “No horses?”

  “Not now. They gave them to the kids ranch just outside of town.”

  “A kids ranch? That’s cool. When we go down there could I see it?”

  “Emma does a lot of work there. See, I’m being the good big sister.”

  “You are good, Tag, and that feels wonderful.” Grace groaned as Tag rubbed the other foot and kept on talking about being the middle child of English-Menominee parents. Soon, Grace was breathing deeply, sound asleep.

  Tag stared at the dark night and then at Grace. Tag brushed her tousled hair off her forehead. She liked it blond as well as its natural dark brown. She traced her fingers across her shoulder and down to the hip. Her anger that someone had shot at Grace was like a slow burn. Tag got up and went to Grace’s bedroom to find a blanket.

  She turned on low lights and closed the drapes. She’d never been in there. The room smelled like Grace. Suddenly, she stopped, staring at the poster above the bed.

  “I’ll be damned,” she said. It was the recruiting poster she’d posed for when she’d led the Dragons. Where on earth had Grace found that?

  She looked at the books on the bedside table and picked up The Last Unicorn that she’d found in Milwaukee, the one with the photo of a young Grace inside. The other books were all about survival. She picked one up and looked closer. It was about sexual abuse. An expensive wine-colored leather notebook lay open beside the bed. Tag bent closer and saw a list of names in Grace’s unique vertical writing. There must have been at least twenty or twenty-five names, all beginning with “Dr.” followed by dates. Tag studied the dates. Some were fifteen years ago. She frowned, seeing telephone numbers beside them. How long had Grace been involved in this?

  She covered Grace with the blanket and sat down at the computers. She checked the motel, still thinking about Grace’s bedroom. She hadn’t seen that Dragon poster in a long time.

  The motel looked quiet. She thought about her Dragons. She couldn’t get them back but she could fight for these girls that were held down there. She backed tonight’s video up a couple of hours and went over it slowly. The new Lincoln had been there, and she watched it drive out of the lot. A few minutes later, a girl came outside and slipped something inside Jeff’s pickup. Was that Frog? It looked like the girl with the spiky hair that AJ had pointed out last night.

  There was a quick rap on the door, and AJ stepped inside. Tag pointed at the sleeping Grace on the couch.

  “I think I just saw Frog on here putting something inside Jeff’s pickup,” she said.

  “You did. Jeff’s meeting with her right now, behind the motel. Can I see the computer?” AJ stopped at the couch, tucking the blanket over Grace’s shoulder. “God. I can’t believe someone actually shot at her,” she said. “I’m angry.”

  “I am too,” Tag said. They both sat at the desk, watching the motel video. Finally, Tag sighed. “What the hell is going on here?” She gestured at the computers. “I mean the motel, Clint Weeks, all of this?”

  AJ took a deep breath. “I’ve fought this assignment from the beginning,” she said. “Let me show you the Bureau’s first email to me when Katie and I returned from up here.” She brought the document up on the screen. “Grace has read this too.”

  Tag read it. “It doesn’t say anything other than ‘forming a task force.’ Well, it mentions this general location and Frog’s information, but nothing specific.”

  “It was the lack of specifics that had me calling Lawrence Kelly. Of course we argued. He said I’d get the rest later, but I never have. Now he tells me to work with Maddie. I wanted to stay in Milwaukee and work with the new task force and X-Girl.” AJ got up for coffee. “Then, after we had that meeting with Jay and Clint, I decided it was a political favor, and I was really pissed. Any thoughts on this?”

  “It’s muddy. We’re just going through the motions, all for Clint Weeks. And we haven’t connected Weeks to the girls in the motel,” Tag said. Her voice carried some anger. “I understand the shootings and fires in Milwaukee were serious, but now one of these girls is dead.”

  They both looked at Grace.

  “Did she finally realize she was the target? Not Crow?”

  “Yes, but she wouldn’t talk about it. She said she had a headache.”

  AJ tapped her coffee cup with her fingers. “I was afraid of that. Grace handles crisis differently than anyone I know.” She shook her head. “First, I need to hear what Frog tells Jeff. Maybe we’ll have something new. Still, I agree that it feels like babysitting. I have that nagging suspicion it has nothing to do with Clint or his grand opening. It’s something else altogether.”

  Tag sighed. “What does Sam say?”

  “We talked about this over dinner tonight, and he agrees with what we’ve just said.”

  Tag stretched her arms above her head. “Let’s say we are here because of Kelly’s friendship with Clint, but that’s just the surface. You’re right. Maybe the problem is something totally different.” She stood and began to pace. “And what about the Owens brothers and the two motel guys? What if they’re connected in another way than what we’ve found? I’m concerned that the chief and the task force down there haven’t dug up any new information.”

  AJ looked at Tag. “It’s hard for me to connect the fires and shootings back to my bureau chief—”

  “Exactly,” Tag said
.

  “Let’s see what Frog gives to Jeff tonight and then what the police tell Grace in the morning. We’ll have a group dinner here tomorrow night. We need to talk about the direction we’re taking.” AJ rubbed her eyes. “This morning you said you wanted to talk about Grace.”

  Tag nodded and sat back down. “I was really frustrated when I got back to Milwaukee after all that crap in Washington. Believe me, Grace is the last thing I anticipated. All I wanted was to come home. Then wham, there’s Grace. All that brains and beauty, and she somehow stretches my normal, the way I usually meet a woman. This is so odd. Something about her makes me want to talk to her.” Tag shut up, embarrassed. “She says she doesn’t know how to talk about it.”

  AJ nodded. “I’ve always said she’s unaware of people’s attraction to her. Then, all the time we were walking out to the arena this afternoon, all she talked about was you.” She stared at Tag for a moment. “Here. Let me show you something.” She flipped one of the screens to her own files. “Grace found John Owens in Milwaukee at a fitness gym and I went in there as a seller with her. She was the ‘product,’ so to speak.” AJ ran the video she’d looked at with the chief at the office. “Watch Grace during this whole conversation.”

  “You were trying to sell her?” Tag frowned when the video stopped.

  “We were trying to learn the market, the language, winging it. Owens was so greedy and arrogant, and you saw the way he treated her. Exactly like a ‘product.’”

  “Look how innocent Grace appears,” Tag said, touching the screen. “Has she always been that way?”

  “Pretty much as far as appearance goes. It’s like there’s a step missing.” She laughed a little. “She was onto Katie and me, right from the beginning.”

  “She never talks about her family, and yet she asked me about mine tonight. I don’t want to get into her business, but—”

  AJ’s phone pinged with a text from Jeff. “Jeff’s on his way up. I’ll take it down to my room so we don’t wake Grace. Watch the computer, will you? I’ll come back when he’s done and we’ll talk again.” And she was gone.

  Tag saw Jeff leave the motel in the dark night. The black car was still gone. She took a deep breath and stared at Grace. It was something between them, whatever it was, and she wanted more.

  * * *

  The clock said 10:17 when Jeff knocked on AJ’s door. She’d just texted Katie and sent lots of hearts.

  Jeff wore a baseball cap over his dark hair and tossed a paper on her desk. She’d made coffee and offered him some.

  “How’s Frog?” AJ said.

  He touched the paper but smiled. “She’s good. You’ve seen the building materials at the motel, all that wood and equipment? They’re not exactly remodeling like Donna Seesom told you. They’re rebuilding the center of the inside, where Frog and the girls are located. The middle four rooms. Greg and I have seen men there, lumber being moved, and were going to ask, but the time’s never been right. Here.” He held up the paper. “Look at Frog’s drawing.”

  AJ leaned over the pencil sketch.

  “She thinks they’re designing a new front entrance here. He touched the drawing. “It’ll be like stepping into a bar. You can have a drink and go down the hall to the private rooms.” He sat down beside her. “I gave her everything I could. Our schedules, what we’re doing and so forth, but didn’t tell her about the FBI’s private phones that we use. She saw Grace last night and of course you this morning. Also, the delivery van.”

  AJ studied the paper. “It looks like a private club. Do I have this right?”

  He nodded. “She says they’re bringing more people here next month. There’s room.” He adjusted his cap and ran his hands through his hair. “The final thing? She didn’t know who Clint Weeks was when I mentioned him.”

  They stared at each other under the weight of that information. Finally, AJ said, “Did you talk to Tag today when she and Jay came into Clint’s lodge?”

  “Yeah, but Greg did the tour. I’ve seen Jay in there a lot. He was talking to that man with the little girl, the one dressed up to appear older. That was weird.”

  “I saw them too. What happened to that young girl?”

  “That man handed her off to one of the suits that hang around there and they disappeared into the dining room. Never saw them again.” Jeff stood. “That’s it. Oh wait, is Grace okay?”

  “How’d you know about that? I was with her.”

  “We heard it at Clint’s and Frog knew about it too, but only that it was a shooting and she called Grace ‘Gabrial’ once. That was interesting.”

  “That could have come from the cops, the sheriff, or someone at the stable,” AJ said, feeling as if this was turning sideways. “Put everything you can think of on Maddie’s thread on the computer. Good job, both of you. How do those girls look to you?”

  “Terrible,” he said. “Underfed and afraid. Used.” He jammed his cap on, pulling the bill down hard. “If I could do anything it would be to put them all back into that truck and drive away. Greg says the same. They’re just kids.”

  The minute he left she called Maddie’s private number and told her everything.

  “My God,” Maddie said finally. “I’m home and on my second glass of a very fine wine, thank heavens. I have a morning meeting with Chief Whiteaker at the Milwaukee task force. I’ll call you afterward.”

  “Grace has to meet with the Niagara Police tomorrow morning. I’ll have that for you when we talk again. Anything on Tag’s trip to Washington?”

  “Hell no. That’s such a mess, and the election’s just around the corner. I have no idea what they’re going to do. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Leaves drifted past AJ the next morning as she walked across the loading docks at Adams Delivery looking for Sam. It was a perfect September day, missing only one thing. Katie. She absently rubbed her hand across her heart.

  Sam was stacking boxes by his van. She yelled at him to wait. If they traded some deliveries, she could stay in town and keep an eye on Grace at the police station.

  “Hey,” he said. “I was just going to call you. I had to stop at the bank and saw one of the motel guys with Donna Seesom in an office there. The man wore a suit and actually looked very businesslike. What if it’s connected to what Frog reported?”

  “That’s a thought. Be sure and put it on the computer.”

  He nodded. “I stopped by the lodge on the way in and talked to Jeff about last night. That thing at the motel is weird. They should use the house Donna is trying to sell for a private club. It’s isolated, out in the country, and would take a lot less to refurbish.”

  AJ blinked. She hadn’t thought of that.

  “Maybe that’s why they were at the bank,” he continued. “What if they’re thinking of two locations? Or maybe they need the money for the work they’re doing.”

  They readjusted deliveries, and as he drove away she had a thought. It might be a good idea to call Donna Seesom and ask to see her house. At the very least, they could go through the place. It might even add pressure on the Seesom woman.

  * * *

  Tag stood inside the police station listening to Jay joke with the young female officer at the front desk. Grace stood beside him, very straight in her black suit and dressy boots, calm and poised. Tag felt that little “ping” she’d gotten the first time they’d met at the Milwaukee airport, and she placed her hand on Grace’s back.

  Leaning backward into the hand on her back, Grace murmured, “I like that,” and turned with a smile that reached her incredible blue eyes. “Is it true the Menominee are ‘People of the Tree’?”

  The question was completely out of the blue and a million miles away from the Niagara Police Station.

  Tag grinned. “You have the most interesting mind.”

  “I found some things online and meant to ask last night, but…” She quirked her mouth. “Sleep got in the way.”

  “It’s true,” Tag said. �
��The Menominee were here hundreds of years before the Europeans and managed the trees. White pines and sugar maples mostly. It’s one of the healthiest forests on Earth. It grew into a business after this area became a state, and the Menominee—”

  “Gabrial, Tag, follow me,” Jay interrupted. “We’re meeting Lieutenant Lithscom, the man in charge. Remember Deputy Miller at the sheriff’s? That’s his cousin. The Millers and Lithscoms have been law enforcement here for decades.”

  An older, tall man with dark, graying hair opened the office door, and Jay introduced them. He looked nothing like Deputy Miller, but Tag certainly remembered his face. She took the chair at the back of the office. Lithscom never smiled. He completely ignored her.

  Over an hour later, they sat at the local diner, hungry and unhappy about the meeting.

  “Thanks again, Jay,” Grace said, reaching for her iced tea.

  “Wait until you get my bill,” Jay teased her. “I love it that they have no idea who you really are, but I wish they had a clue about the shooting. Lithscom’s crap attitude doesn’t help.”

  “Yes, but he knew Gabrial decked his cousin. I almost laughed when he said, ‘You’re the one that had Deputy Miller on the ground?’” She dabbed hot sauce on her plate of ribs. “Bet the family hotline is sizzling after he had a look at you. He’ll give his young cousin a hard time.” Her smile faded. “I certainly remember him.”

  “We barely speak unless we have to.” Jay shook his head, disgusted.

  Grace dug into her chicken salad. “What’s the story?”

  “He killed a man outside of our high school when he was a young cop here,” Tag said.

  Grace looked up. “Did he shoot him?”

  “The victim was a Menominee who drank too long and hard here in Niagara. Lithscom chased him all the way back to Keshena and cornered him in the parking lot at the high school as the football game ended and the crowd was leaving. He drew his gun and shot him in front of everyone.” He bit into his sandwich. “I was in college, but Tag and her family were there.”