The Edge

  He turned his attention back to Laura. “Now, Ms. Scott, you claim you have no enemies. Still, I’ll need a list of the people you know in Salem, and I’ll need to go over that list with you.”

  Laura nodded, then closed her eyes. She looked pale and exhausted. I bet I looked about the same.

  I wondered if I should tell Castanga all the rest of it, including Charlie’s dying words. No, I’d leave that decision to Maggie.

  I thought of Jilly and Paul. Could either of them hate Laura so much they’d want to murder her? Had Jilly left the hospital on her own, driven up to Salem, managed to get into Laura’s apartment, and poured phenobarbital into the coffee can?

  “Did Jilly have a key to your condo, Laura?” I asked finally, hating the words as they left my mouth.

  “No,” she said. “I don’t think so. She visited me there, of course, from time to time. I need a better painkiller. My head is killing me.”

  Detective Castanga stood and slowly slipped his notebook back into the inside pocket of his coat. “We have time for this later, Ms. Scott, when you feel better. In the meantime, I’ll post an officer by your door.”

  “Thank you, Detective,” she said and closed her eyes again, turning her head away from him on the stingy hospital pillow.

  “Mac, are you coming?”

  I said, “I don’t want to leave her here alone. Someone tried to kill her. It’ll take a while for you to get someone over here.”

  “Not long,” Detective Castanga said. “I got a guy who’s a little burned out right now, but he’ll guard her well.” He said to Laura, “His name is Harold Hobbes, a nice guy, tough as nails, and he won’t let his own mother into your room.”

  “Thank you, Detective,” she said.

  I went with Detective Castanga to the door and part-way down the hospital corridor. Our footsteps sounded on a background of muted groans, one loud shout, the low hum of music, beeping machines, and an occasional curse. When I returned to Laura’s room, I saw a tall woman bending over Laura.

  “Hey,” I said and ran forward.

  The woman straightened and cocked her head at me in question. It was Dr. Kiren. “She’s tired but wanted to ask me a question. I had to lean over to hear her.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  Dr. Kiren smiled. “She’ll be just fine by this evening, maybe even ready to go home.”

  Home, I thought. No, that wouldn’t work. I had to think about this.

  Dr. Kiren’s pager went off. On her way out, she told Laura to rest.

  I thought about Charlie Duck’s funeral. Hopefully Charlie would arrive back in time for his scheduled send-off.

  I leaned over Laura and stroked my thumb over her eyebrows. I said very quietly, “I’ll see you later this afternoon. Then we’ll talk. Just rest. Harold Hobbes will be outside your room. If anyone comes near you, it means they’ve gotten past Harold, so scream your head off.”

  “All right,” she said, not opening her eyes. I’d nearly made it to the door when she called out, “Thanks, Mac.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “I’m sorry I nearly got you killed.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I stopped at Laura’s condo. Castanga’s people had finished with it, but I still had to show my FBI badge so the manager would unlock her door. Grubster was standing directly in front of the door, waiting for Laura. He saw me, meowed once, then turned around and walked away, his tail high in the air. “I’m here to feed you,” I called after him.

  To my surprise, Grubster stopped, raised his left paw, licked it, and took two steps back toward me. Then he just sat there. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s find your cat food.”

  I watched Grubster chow down an entire can of salmon and rice and a big handful of dried stuff that looked so bad I poured some non-fat milk over it. Grubster purred the whole time he ate. I gave him a ton of fresh water and eyed his cat box, which needed changing. Grubster watched my technique. He must have approved because on his way out of the kitchen he stopped a moment and swiped his whiskers against my leg.

  “Now for you, Nolan.” When I said his name, Nolan filled the air with loud, sharp squawks, probably a bird’s equivalent to orders. I changed his water, crumpled up a thick slice of bread into small pieces, and sprinkled sunflower seeds on the floor of his cage. Nolan obligingly hopped in to dine.

  I stopped at the front door, looked from Grubster to Nolan, sighed, and went back to scratch and pet Grubster while Nolan serenaded me with squawks between bread bites.

  I’d always had dogs growing up. During the past four or five years, though, I hadn’t had a pet of any kind around. As I left, it didn’t seem strange to call back to the two of them, “I’ll be back to get you guys later.”

  “Squawk.”

  Nothing from Grubster. He was asleep.

  I got back to Edgerton in the early afternoon. I stopped at Grace’s Deli and ordered up a tuna salad sandwich on rye bread, with lots of tomatoes and dill pickles. While I ate, I asked Grace how to go about renting a home or an apartment here in town or just out of town, maybe near where Rob Morrison’s small clapboard cottage was.

  Grace was strong-willed as a mule, tall and very thin, with a head of salt-and-pepper hair. She smiled at me and said, “Well, I reckon you could go over to the Buttercup Bed and Breakfast, but Arlene Hicks isn’t really high on you being here. Never got it through her head that money is money. She already told you she was all filled up, didn’t she?”

  I nodded. “I should have told her that if she wasn’t running drugs, she has nothing to fear.”

  “Well, she just might be, you never know. Arlene’s full of deep shoals, lots of secrets. I’ve got it, Mr. MacDougal. Mr. Tarcher owns a little house like Rob Morrison’s. It’s called Seagull Cottage, to the south of town, nearly right on the cliff. It’s empty right now. The last tenants left about a month ago.”

  “Excellent.” I finished off my sandwich and rose. “Are you coming to Charlie Duck’s funeral?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Grace said. “I have a three-minute eulogy to give.” She smiled, seeing my confusion. “I’m the town Buddhist.”

  “You’re a Buddhist?”

  “I haven’t made up my mind, but I’m close enough. The thing is, though, that the Buddhists make it very simple for you to reach your heavenly reward. To reach Nirvana, all you have to do is live right, think right, and deny yourself just about everything. That’s something, isn’t it?”

  “Where does the line begin?” I asked, looking around.

  Grace just cocked her head at me, and I smiled and left. I called the Tarcher house and was surprised when Alyssum himself answered the phone. I told him I wanted to rent Seagull Cottage and I told him why. If he was the one behind having Laura drugged, well, it hardly mattered. He’d find out soon enough anyway where she was. Besides I wanted everyone to know that Laura and I were together and planned to camp right in their own backyard.

  “So that’s why I can’t allow Ms. Scott to return to her place. It was Grace who kindly told me about the house you’re renting down on the cliffs.”

  Alyssum Tarcher said, “Well, Agent MacDougal, this is a surprise. So you’ll be guarding Ms. Scott then?”

  I told him there’d be a lot of people near her, that Maggie was setting up a schedule, but I was going to be the main one baby-sitting.

  “I’ll tell you what, Agent MacDougal,” Tarcher said, pausing for a deep, stentorian breath, “to do my good citizen’s part, I’ll grant you a month’s free rent on the house.” I didn’t have a problem with that at all. I thanked him and made a date to pick up the house key. The only problem I foresaw was getting Laura away from her condo in Salem and down to Edgerton with me. And maybe getting the truth out of her.

  I returned to Salem General Hospital, Nolan and Grubster on the backseat of the Taurus, the trunk loaded down with three suitcases holding just about everything I could imagine she’d want and need.

  I decided on my way up in the elevator ho
w to get Laura to Edgerton.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Laura was sitting on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling, the green hospital nightgown falling off her left shoulder. When she saw me in the doorway, her face lit up.

  “Mac! I was just going to get myself together. Would you mind taking me home?”

  I told her I wouldn’t mind at all. The clothes she’d worn when they’d brought her in were hanging in the closet. I spoke outside with Harold Hobbes while she changed.

  “Hell of a thing,” Harold said, as he nodded toward the door. “Some jerk trying to ice a pretty lady like that.” I agreed that it was.

  “No one even came by to sniff.”

  I knocked, heard Laura tell me to come in, and went in to fetch my new roommate.

  Laura was still a bit on the shaky side, but she looked much better. They made her ride down in a wheelchair, which she didn’t like at all. I put her in the passenger side of the Taurus and quickly shut the door.

  “What is this, Mac?”—her first words to me when I slid in behind the steering wheel. I turned to the backseat and said, “Hi, guys. Everything okay?”

  “Squawk.”

  “Grubster, you got any news from the front?”

  Nothing from Grubster.

  “What’s going on here, Mac?”

  I drove out of the parking lot. “You’re on vacation as of right now, Ms. Scott. I’ve rented us a small house just south of Edgerton, on the cliffs. It’s called Seagull Cottage, and Mr. Alyssum Tarcher has given it to us rent-free for a month. I’m going to be your roommate.”

  She chewed this over for about twenty-two seconds. “No way. I live in Salem. I’ll lose my job.”

  “No. I got you a two-week vacation, without pay. I told them I was your brother and you’d come down with Lyme disease. They were suitably impressed. It was a Mr. Dirkson who cleared you. All right?”

  “My condo.”

  “I told the manager you were going out of town. He’s going to keep an eye on everything.”

  “I don’t have any clothes.”

  “All in the trunk.”

  She was done, for the moment. We were out of Salem now, heading toward 101.

  “It’s okay, Laura,” I said, giving her a quick smile. “Really, it’s better this way. Except it’s interesting about Alyssum Tarcher being our landlord. Hey, if he had anything to do with this, he would have found out that you’d flown the coop. Now everyone knows you’re not alone, that you’ve got protection, namely yours truly.”

  “You don’t know anything, Mac.”

  “I will, soon enough. I don’t want you thinking that you’re walking right into the bear cave, what with us going to Edgerton. I’ll be in that cave with you and I’m mean. Besides, I’ve got a big spear. Running away is not the way to find out what’s going on in Edgerton, or to find my sister.” I waited, but she didn’t say anything, just nodded after a bit.

  It had started raining, just a drizzle at first, but now it was really coming down. “I didn’t bring you a raincoat, sorry.”

  She didn’t say a word for at least seven miles. Finally, I said, “Laura? Is this okay with you?”

  “Are you really going to let people know—the whole town—that someone tried to kill me? Or are you going to leave it as both of us?”

  “I already told Alyssum Tarcher that it was just you. When we get to Edgerton, I need to stop off at Paul’s house to pick up my clothes. Then I need to see Maggie, find out if she’s heard anything about Jilly. Also, Charlie Duck’s autopsy report should be coming in soon.”

  “You think the old man’s death is somehow connected, don’t you?”

  “My boss, Big Carl Bardolino, at the FBI, likes to say there’s no such thing as coincidence, at least in our line of work.”

  “Squawk.”

  “Nolan’s got some more sunflower seeds in that lunch bag on the backseat if you think he’s still hungry.”

  A car came around to pass us, not too wise since we were on a curve. I slowed down just a bit and gave it plenty of room to go around.

  Laura started to say something as she turned around to reach for the bag of sunflower seeds. In the next instant, there was a popping sound, then another. I jerked back. I realized that a bullet had gone through her passenger-side window. It had crashed through my window and missed my neck by a couple of inches, leaving a spiderweb of cracked glass in its wake.

  I pulled the steering wheel hard right, then corrected to the left, just missing an oncoming car. I saw a man in my mind’s eye, on the passenger side, raising what had to have been a gun. I saw the car just ahead of us, a dark red Honda. I gunned the Taurus and winced. In this rain, if I wasn’t careful, we’d go skidding right off the road. The Honda roared ahead, cutting hard and fast around a sharp turn. I knew the Taurus wouldn’t make it. I had to slow a bit. When I got around the curve, the Honda had widened the distance.

  “My God, Mac, are you all right?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “I think so. If I hadn’t turned in just that moment to get Nolan some sunflower seeds—”

  “I know. Laura, sit back down and fasten your seat belt.”

  “Squawk.”

  “It’s all right, Nolan. Think of this as an adventure.”

  Laura was strapped in and I passed two cars, nearly skimming off the paint on the second one. Horns blared loudly in our ears.

  We were getting closer. “Laura, I don’t think we can catch them, but we can get the license plate.”

  “I can try,” she said, and buzzed down what was left of her electric window to lean out. Rain flew in the open window, hard and heavy.

  I tried to keep my hands loose and relaxed on the steering wheel even though my heart pounded faster in anger each time I saw that webbed bullet hole out of the corner of my eye. I passed another car, a Land Rover. The driver gave me the finger and shouted a curse. I didn’t blame him.

  There were just about forty yards of highway between us and the Honda. I saw a man leaning out the passenger window, looking back. He had a gun. “Laura, down!”

  She jerked back in and flattened herself against the seat as the man fired five or six rounds.

  “Mac,” she said, “you’ve got a gun, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’ve got to concentrate.”

  “Give it to me. I know how to shoot.”

  I didn’t want to. It was the last thing I wanted to do, actually. I felt her hand pulling it out of my shoulder holster.

  “Laura,” I said, “I’d rather you didn’t. Please, be careful.”

  “Just get us closer to that damned Honda.”

  We closed to within fifteen yards of the Honda. This stretch of 101 was all curves and inclines and twisting hills. The rain had lightened up a bit, thank God. I’d be just on the verge of seeing the license plate when the Honda would disappear again around another curve.

  Laura hugged the passenger door, waiting. She seemed very calm, perhaps too calm. Something was strange here. “Laura, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, Mac. Just keep up with them. Yeah, just a little bit closer.” Suddenly, she reared up and halfway out the open window, rain curtaining her face. She shot off half the clip, fast.

  The Honda’s back window exploded. A man came out of the passenger-side window, a gun trained on us. Before he could fire, Laura shot off another three rounds. I saw his gun fly out of his hand and skitter across the highway. She’d got him. Then the Honda disappeared around another turn.

  I gunned the Taurus. We came around the bend and skidded out to see the Honda disappear on the short straight stretch in front of us.

  “Damn, I wanted to get a back tire.”

  When we last saw the Honda, it was weaving back and forth, the driver sawing the steering wheel to get it out of a skid. He straightened over a crest and the car shot forward. I gunned the Taurus. Just one more try. But the rain did us in. We hit a slick patch. The car spun in a full three-sixty. We ended up on the side of the road
, about six feet from a ditch.

  “We didn’t get the license plate,” Laura said. “Well, damn.”

  “After this I’m going to rent a Porsche. Bastards got away.”

  And Laura laughed.

  We were still pumped with adrenaline. I started laughing too. It felt good. We were alive.

  It took petting Grubster and calming Nolan to get ourselves back down.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded as she continued scratching behind Grubster’s ears. “That was a close one, Mac. My heart’s pounding louder than a runaway train. My adrenaline level was so high there for a while, I bet I could have flown right out of this busted window. Oh, Jesus, Mac.”

  She leaned over to me to put her arms around my back, her elbow hitting the steering wheel. Grubster was between us, purring loudly. I held her tightly, feeling her heartbeat against my chest, her warm breath against my neck, grateful that we’d survived this. It had been close. I took a quick survey of the Taurus. One busted window and a driver’s-side window that was spider-webbed, with one small hole right in the middle. Too bad it hadn’t stopped the bullet. Some sort of tangible evidence would have been nice.

  “What are we going to do?” She didn’t move while she spoke, and I liked that.

  “I guess if I had my cell phone with me, I’d call Castanga, the President, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

  “I don’t have mine either,” she said against my neck. “It’s on the dining room table at my condo.”

  “Squawk!”

  “Oh dear, I forgot about Nolan and Grubster.”

  She lifted Grubster off her lap and hefted him onto the backseat. She gave Nolan more sunflower seeds. I turned to see Grubster stretch his front legs against the front seat. I’d swear that cat was as tall as I was. Then he lightly jumped up front again and curled in Laura’s lap.

  I raised my hand and picked up a strand of hair that had come free of the clip at the back of her neck. I rubbed the hair between my fingers.

  She grew very still.

  “I’m glad we’re both still alive.”