Rain dripped from the thick canopy of leaves above Bree’s head. The moisture created almost a halo of mist in the clearing. All of her search team had assembled in spite of the weather. Sporting yellow slickers, they slogged through the mud to join her.
“I appreciate you coming,” Bree said when rumbles of their grumbling reached her ears. “I know it’s lousy weather, but consider it good training. Sometimes people get lost in this kind of weather. Knowing how to search now could be the difference between life and death. And Samson is out there somewhere, waiting for us to find him.”
The group’s grumbling petered out. Bree saw Lauri and Eva exchange glances. “What?”
Eva dropped her gaze to the ground. “I wonder if it’s time to give up, Bree. He’s probably been taken out of the area. I don’t know how we could ever find him.”
“Ooh, did we crawl out of the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Ryan Erickson asked. The paramedic looked fresh and alert. “We aren’t giving up until Bree says it’s time to give up.”
Eva glared at him but didn’t answer. They’d had a “thing” for about two weeks, but now that it was over, they were at loggerheads again. Bree grimaced. The day was shaping up to be lousy.
“I’m not ready to give up yet,” she said quietly. “I still feel Samson is around here somewhere.”
“Feelings don’t tell us where to search,” Eva pointed out.
Bree ignored her comment. “We’ll do some training, then go out and search for Samson. We’re going to work on cadaver scent today,” she said.
“I hate this kind of work,” Eva grumbled.
Naomi shot her a quelling look. “All of us would rather find living people, especially the dogs, but we’re going to be faced with this sooner or later.”
Bree nodded. “I’m going to sprinkle some cadaver scent on gauze and let your dogs smell it.” She prepared the pad and dropped it into a paper bag. “Whichever dog finds it first, I’m giving away a twenty-dollar certificate to the Suomi Café.”
The grumbles changed to smiles.
“Let’s get on with it,” Lauri said.
Bree held up her hand. “I’ve already hidden the scent tube. It’s not going to be as easy as you think. I buried it six feet under-ground.”
“Hey, that will take all day for them to find it,” Eva said, frowning.
“Charley is exempt from the contest,” Naomi put in.
“Wait here. I’ll call you when it’s ready. I want to watch the dogs work.”
“I’m going to look over the grid map and figure out where we want to search for Samson today,” Naomi said.
Bree shot her a grateful look. Her best friend knew how worried she was. “Be right back,” she said.
Jogging through the scent of pine and mud, Bree felt her tension slip away like the ebbing of Superior’s tide. The wilderness sustained her, like an infusion of lifeblood into her soul. God felt just a whisper away out here, and she knew he was in control of everything, even the trauma Hilary and Mason were going through and the trial she was facing with losing Samson. She whispered a prayer for them all and lifted her face to the stinging rain.
She found the fake burial site, then stationed herself in a tree stand to watch the dogs work. She spoke into her walkie-talkie to Naomi. “Okay, we’re all set. Send them out.” She settled her back against the bark and watched as the dogs zigzagged through the woods. Charley found it first of course, but he didn’t count. Then Zorro nosed the spot and began to bark. Bree grinned. He was turning into a fine search dog.
Once all the dogs had found the site, she dropped from the tree and congratulated the workers. Lauri was awarded the gift certificate, and she carried it like a badge of honor. Together they all started back to headquarters to meet Naomi.
Walking through the thick vegetation, Bree stumbled over something lying on the ground in a bed of wildflowers. It moved yet didn’t feel like a stick. She stooped and peered under the vegetation. A gun lay hidden under a patch of jack-in-the-pulpit. Bree started to pick it up, then drew back her hand. Phil had been shot with a .44 magnum. She was no expert on guns, but Rob had one made by Smith and Wesson, and this looked just like his. She’d better call Mason in on this. It just might be the murder weapon.
She pulled a flag from her ready-pack and stuck it in the ground by the gun so she could lead Mason here. She took out her GPS system and marked down the coordinates. It wouldn’t do to lose the gun now. Hesitating, she decided she’d better take it with her. If it was gone by the time she got Mason back here, he would have her hide. She took out a plastic bag and pencil, then lifted the gun with the pencil and dropped it into the bag. Maybe forensics could get some prints off it.
She grimaced. There was no telling if it was even the murder weapon. More likely someone had just lost it. Her cell phone rang, and she grabbed it. “Bree Nicholls.”
“Bree, it’s Cassie.”
Her sister’s voice sounded strained. “Could you come to the lab? Ian’s dead. Whoever it is seems to be planning on killing us all, one by one.”
Jonelle breathed a sigh of relief when Zane’s pickup disappeared around the bend and was swallowed by the trees. Grabbing some salve, she shot out the back door to the dog pen. Samson lay in the corner, his head on his paws. He growled when she approached.
“It’s okay, boy,” she said softly. She opened the gate and approached him cautiously. She didn’t think he’d hurt her, but after the way Zane had treated him, there was no telling. The dog growled again when she touched his flank, but he didn’t snap at her.
The stick Zane had used on the dog had left cuts, and she cleaned the wounds with peroxide. Samson whimpered but seemed to know she was trying to help him. She smoothed salve on raw skin and patted his head. He licked her hand, and it was all she could do not to cry. She wished she had the courage to save him.
Superior Forensics personnel were still combing the room, but it was likely the blast had destroyed any evidence. Cassie sat with the rest of the crew in the reception area. Clasping her icy hands together in her lap, she tried to make sense of the way her life had come crashing down around her.
She couldn’t close out the image in her mind of Ian’s still body crumpled like a broken doll under the debris.
Mason handed her a cup of coffee, and she wrapped her fingers around it, letting the warmth seep into her cold hands. Salome sat on one side and Nora on the other.
Mason pulled up a chair in front of the group. “So no one thought to make sure where everyone was?”
“I took a head count,” Cassie said. “But Ian was off that day. I thought it odd he didn’t show up today to help get things back in order, but I just assumed he’d gone out of town.” Guilt gnawed at her stomach. Could he have been saved if he’d been found?
“Was he acting funny this past week?”
“Ian always acted funny,” Yancy muttered.
“What’s that?”
“He was a strange bird.” Yancy leaned back in his chair.
“Explain, please.”
Nora cleared her throat and glanced around before offering her opinion. “No one ever got close to him. He never talked about his life outside the lab, he was picky about anyone looking at what he was working on, he dressed in clothes that didn’t match. He was odd in a lot of ways.”
“You dated him for a while. Were you angry with him for breaking up with you?”
She flushed. “I did the breaking up. I couldn’t abide a man who never shared what he was thinking.”
“Why are you asking these questions?” Cassie demanded. “Surely you don’t think he had something to do with the explosion?”
“Could be,” Mason said. “I want to look at all the possibilities.”
Cassie noticed he looked pale and a little haunted, like he hadn’t gotten much sleep. He rubbed his forehead, and she looked back into her coffee cup. His life wasn’t any of her business.
Mason glanced at the security guards. “Did Ian come in the nigh
t before the explosion?”
Both guards nodded. “He said he had some stuff to work on. That wasn’t unusual for him though,” the older guard said. “He came in most every night.”
“Anyone else here that night?”
The guard nodded. “Pretty busy night, actually. Yancy, Chito, and Lola came by. Even you,” he nodded to Cassie.
“Me too,” Salome said. “I wanted to check on those cultures.”
Mason sighed. “Maybe Superior Forensics can tell us more.”
“You think he might have been killed setting the bomb?” Yancy wanted to know.
“Either that or he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. The autopsy should tell us the cause of death.”
Cassie set her coffee down on the table beside her. “What if someone is targeting us? All of us? I wish Bree would get here.”
The media was already at the scene when Bree arrived. Naomi had taken Davy home to play with Timmy. She pushed through the crowd and found Mason. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and she wondered if he’d gotten any rest this past weekend.
He saw her and lifted his hand. “Got another body,” he said.
“Cassie called it murder.”
“I’m not saying that yet. Could be an accident. He might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, or he might have been planting the bomb and it went off too soon.”
“Why would he bomb his own work?”
Mason shrugged. “Maybe he has links to an environmental group.”
“What about a rival pharmaceutical group? Cassie has talked about Jackson Pharmaceuticals. Could they have bombed the facility?”
“Maybe. But my instincts say there was someone helping on the inside. You ever try to get in this place?” He shook his head. “It’s like trying to break into the national vault.”
Cassie interrupted Mason. “Thanks for coming so quickly.” Her hair stood out from her head like she’d just run her fingers through it.
Bree hesitated, then reached out and put her arms around her sister. “You’ve had a rough week.”
Cassie’s eyes filled with tears, and she leaned her head against Bree’s shoulder. The gratitude in her eyes made Bree feel ashamed. She was just going through the motions. They both had the same blood running through their veins. She wanted to open her heart to Cassie but didn’t know how.
Mason took out his notepad. “Are you sure you have all the entrances and exits closed up except for this one and the ones along the west side?”
Cassie shrugged and dropped Bree’s hand. “We got a map of the mine from Steve. Want me to get it?”
“That might be helpful. I have a hunch we have another way in here you know nothing about.”
When Cassie left to find the map, Bree pulled Mason aside and showed him the gun she’d stumbled over.
“Where’d you find it?” He took the plastic bag and peered in at the gun.
“Out near the training center. I marked the spot. You think it could be the murder weapon?”
“We should only be so lucky.” He pocketed it. “I’ll have ballistics test it.”
Cassie came back with the map in her hand. “Here it is.” She unrolled it on a nearby desk.
Bree and Mason peered over her shoulder as she traced her finger along the passageways they had open.
“The only way to know is to follow every passageway to the end and see what we’ve got,” Mason said. “Can I take this?”
“Let me make you a copy. I’d better keep the original.” She flagged down the receptionist and told her to make a copy for Mason.
“I’ll get some men on it.” He nodded to Cassie and Bree then strode off to talk to Deputy Montgomery.
Cassie gripped her hands together. “I’m scared, Bree. Every time I turn around, something else bad happens.”
Bree nodded. “Do you have any enemies?”
“Personal ones?” She shook her head. “Not that I know of. But the company is another story.” She took a deep breath. “Come to my office where we can talk in private. There are some things you should know.”
The desperation in her voice puzzled Bree. “If it pertains to the deaths, we’d better have Mason join us.”
“Let me tell you first. I need to talk now and he’s busy.” Cassie led the way to her office and shut the door behind them.
Bree looked around curiously. The office was devoid of most personal effects save for one small photo on the desk. She picked it up and recognized the man holding a girl. Uncle Bernard, her father.
Cassie’s gaze lingered on her face. “That’s me when I was ten. I’d just won the science fair. Daddy was so proud.”
Their father was smiling at Cassie. There was love and pride in his face.
Cassie lost no opportunity to show how lucky she’d been growing up with a father. Bree put the frame back on the desk. “At least you had him around. I had a succession of fathers, each one more indifferent than the one before.”
Cassie bit her lip but said nothing. She sat in her chair and put her elbows on the desk. “I haven’t been completely honest with you,” she said. “Our research here is a little more critical than I’ve indicated. It may provide a cure for Alzheimer’s, not just diabetes. I’m afraid Jackson knows what we’re really researching.”
“You think they might be behind what’s been happening?”
“I know they are. We’ve been paying an informant, Leif Lindell, at Jackson. He says they’re in a frenzy over it.”
“The sabotage I can understand. But why murder?”
“If they can knock out our scientists, who would be left to finish the testing? They’d have clear sailing ahead and be able to rush the drug to market.”
“Couldn’t they still bring their drug out? Just with a slightly different formulation? Other drugs are like that.”
“Yes, but the first one always makes the most money. We intend to be first.” Cassie leaned forward. “I will be first.”
Bree understood Cassie’s hope, but surely any drug she found now would come too late to benefit their father. “I’ll tell Mason about it and we’ll see what we can find out.”
People thronged the sidewalk outside the pharmacy as Bree pulled into town. Terry was running a special on a shipment of troll dolls, and it seemed as though all the tourists wanted one. She walked through the store to the back, where she found Terry with his wife, Regina.
Regina faced him with her fists clenched. She leaned forward slightly from the waist with her face in Terry’s. “I’ve had it,” she hissed. “It was nearly midnight when you came in last night. I know you’re seeing someone. I can smell the reek of her perfume all over you. Don’t bother coming home tonight. I’m sure she’ll be glad to put you up.” She whirled and barreled down the aisle, nearly knocking Bree over.
“Sorry,” she muttered, brushing past Bree.
Terry’s eyes were rimmed in red. “Sorry about that. We’ve been having a few problems.”
Bree’s mind sped through the possibilities. Could Terry be connected to Cassie’s troubles somehow? She remembered the way he looked at Marika. And even Salome seemed taken with him. “I wanted to ask you a couple more questions about procedures here.”
“Come to my office where we can talk in private.” He led the way to his office.
Bree stared at the bald spot on the back of his head. She’d always liked Terry. Could Marika be the woman he was seeing? And if she was, did it even matter? She couldn’t imagine how infidelity could be tied in with the attempt on Cassie’s life.
“Have a seat.” Terry adjusted the blinds and let the sunshine into the office.
The decor was early seventies garage sale. Bree sat on a green chair with a torn vinyl seat. “I wanted to ask you about Deanna.”
He flushed. “Don’t believe everything my wife says.”
“Excuse me?” Bree shook her head. “I haven’t talked to your wife about this.”
His cheeks grew a dull red. “I thought maybe you overheard us as you
came up.” He shook his head. “Never mind. What about Deanna?”
Deanna must be the other woman. At least this wasn’t something she needed to poke into further. Relief made her smile more warmly than she intended. “Is there any chance she—or you for that matter—could have been filling another prescription and accidentally changed Cassie’s?”
He shook his head. “No. Like I told you before, we run reports to check everything we do. Besides, I thought Mason’s expert found evidence of the hacking.”
“Yes, he did. But I’m trying not to overlook anything.” Bree watched him fidget and not look her in the eye. Maybe there was a connection she was missing.
20
There was nowhere to park outside the Suomi Café, so Bree pulled into a spot across the street and down a block. It would be like this for another month—at least until the end of August. Then the tourists would depart and leave the townspeople to enjoy their town themselves.
Taking Davy’s hand, they crossed the street with Charley following them. “Want some chocolate milk and a bagel for your afternoon snack?” she asked.
“With cream cheese,” Davy proclaimed.
“And some thimbleberry jam, maybe?”
He nodded. “I’m hungry.”
“Me too.” She opened the door for him, and they stepped inside.
Molly’s expectant gaze glanced behind Bree as though looking for Samson, and her eager look dulled as she saw Charley instead. Molly took the pencil from behind her ear. “What can I get for you two?” She didn’t ask about Samson, and Bree was grateful.
Bree gave her their order, then she and Davy began to do the games on the back of the paper place mats. The bell at the front door jingled, and she looked up. Hilary stepped inside the café. Charley stood to greet her and pressed his nose against her leg.
She flinched away. “Beat it, you mangy hound.”
“Why don’t you like dogs, Aunt Hilary? Charley likes you. Samson does too.”
Hilary’s chin quivered, and she looked away. “I’ll buy you a stick of peppermint candy.” She dug in her purse and handed him some money. His question forgotten, he scampered to the candy counter at the front of the store.