She watched the needles, then tore off a strip of paper from the machine and wrote "Carpet Trick" on the bottom.
"OK, Hans, that was very good. Now for the next option. We take these fire ants…"
When she was through, she came and sat a foot away from Hans. "I'm pleased to say there's one thing that sends you off the chart, Hans. So tell me, when did you become terrified of tight places, like a rolled-up carpet?"
"Little kid."
"Tell me about it."
"We gonna make a deal?"
"You need that reassurance, don't you?"
Hans was silent.
"You tell me everything I want to know and I won't roll you up in the carpet and cook you."
"How do I know?"
"Because you didn't let that Spaniard tie me down and fuck me like he wanted to. Now, who called me on the phone?''
"I did."
"That's a good start. I know you'll keep in mind that I'm going to pentathol you when we're through. You know what will happen if you don't pass with flying colors?" She paused. "I don't hear you."
"I know what will happen."
"All right. So what's with the bats? And what are your boys doing around the mine?''
Kenji was in a panic. According to his men who had listened to the police bands and scouted Morgan's farm, Groiter had disappeared off the face of the earth. Cops were still crawling all over Morgan's, and Corey Schneider wasn't answering her phone. He would need to flee to Japan or get personally involved. There were too many loose ends and too much potential evidence against him to leave the country. Extradition back from Japan would be a distinct possibility. Instead, he would go to Palmer and work with the two San Francisco men. The men would meet him at the Palmer airport and together they would find Groiter and Corey Schneider.
Ninety minutes later, Kenji was in the company Hawker Sidley 700 business jet, staring down at the Golden Gate Bridge. As he sat with his feet up on the opposite seat and contemplated his predicament, his finger traced the swirls in the maple fold-out table, and he kept seeing Groiter's face in the pattern.
Maria had a date with Nate, who was traumatized by what he had seen when she was taken. She'd convinced Dan it would be better if she and Nate went alone. Although Dan was initially reluctant, he realized that with the police following her around Palmer, nothing was likely to happen.
When she pulled up to the curb for Nate, he bounded up to the car, looking eager. Inside, he sat with his hands squeezed tightly together in his lap and glanced sideways at her, not making eye contact.
"I'm so proud of you. You saved my life. How about a hug." He squeezed tight enough that her bruised ribs hurt. She said nothing, enjoying the intensity of the moment. "One of these days we'll have to go get some more fish. But maybe we'll wait until they catch the bad guys first."
Glancing in the rearview mirror, she saw the two plain-clothes officers in their white Crown Victoria.
"Those are the cops, huh?"
"That's right. We're going to have a little company, but they won't bother us."
The light fog coursed over the kelp-strewn water's edge, pushing past the beach and inland some quarter of a mile. There, the sun shone to the earth unhindered, turning the coastal mountains an Oz-like golden green. Maria and Nate hiked over the rocky beach, their nostrils flared with the smells of salt and seaweed; their leg muscles burned as they walked barefoot on the cool, damp sand. Ahead of them the beach stretched in a crescent to a finger of land pushed prominently out to sea, its tip spewing out several rocky little islands. Behind them were the massive jetties: two gray-white arms reaching out into the ocean, forming a safe passage to Palmer Bay.
Maria and Nate had said little since leaving the car, communicating instead through gently squeezed fingers and lazily swinging arms.
"Hey," Nate said finally, breaking the silence. "What's that?"
Together they spied a form on the beach.
"I'm not sure," Maria responded. "But it looks like a sea lion."
"Wow. It's big. What's it doing? Is it hurt? Will it run away when we get close?"
Maria laughed. "I don't know. Let's find out."
Soon they were close enough to look the creature in the eye. Just then it rose up, gave a roaring bark, and fell lamely back to the sand. The tide was going down, and the sea lion lay on its side, its body moving in little tremors, struggling to rouse itself and head back out to sea. But it was so sick or so exhausted that it could not. The animal had no outward wounds, but Maria suspected it was struggling with age and the infirmities of an old body. She put a hand on Nate's shoulder.
"I'm afraid this poor old guy is getting ready to die."
"Like Mom," Nate said softly.
"Yes," Maria said, squeezing his shoulder.
"But she was just gone all of a sudden."
"I know."
"I don't want that to happen anymore," Nate said, his voice breaking.
Then she held him and he cried for what seemed like a half hour. On the way back to the car, Maria could see a change in his eyes. She wasn't sure what or how, but something had been resolved.
30
They were to meet in the lobby of the Palmer Inn. Sitting in front of a mammoth stone fireplace in a brown overstuffed couch, she browsed through a New York Times that she had managed to find at the front desk. They had reserved a private booth at the back of the restaurant. It was 4:00 p.m. She wasn't hungry, her insides were in turmoil, and her feelings bounced from anger to desperation to hope, while her mind fought to see a rational path out of her quandary. They really needed a very private place-a place she could yell and pace. When she agreed to meet him here, she hadn't thought of that.
She felt a hand on her shoulder.
She turned around, and there was Dan, smiling and relaxed.
"You aren't getting yourself all worked up, are you?"
"Yes. I am getting myself all worked up."
"Well, let's go in the coffee shop and have a talk, then maybe we'll go for a drive."
"OK," she said.
They were greeted by a friendly waiter who had no one to wait on. Apparently gauging Maria, he handed them their menus immediately after seating them and said he would return in a while. No chitchat.
The decor was blush pink and black, a little worn, but not nearly as tough as the conversation she contemplated.
"I'm grateful to be alive."
"Yeah. It must feel good coming so close on the heels of almost dying."
"It does. We've been saying…" She paused and started again. "We've been talking about the Highlands and our-" She hesitated, trying to think of how to say it.
"Maybe I could help out here. I mean, you might not have to carry all the water yourself."
"Why don't you just grab a bucket and have at it?"
"Well, I'd like to change venues if I'm going to help you out. I'm sure the waiter will forgive us. I'll leave a generous tip."
"OK," she said, uncertain but willing.
''You have to promise to hold this discussion in abeyance until we reach our destination."
Dan rose, pulled out his wallet, and offered his arm. As they walked, the waiter rose from his perch with a quizzical frown. Dan smiled and slipped him a five.
''I'm sorry, I just realized there was some important business that I need to attend to," Dan said.
"Where are we going?"
"My house. Pepacita's just leaving and Nate's with Katie."
"I see." They were quiet during the walk to the car.
"I'm really curious now. Do you have food, or what? You look so devilish. I'm almost worried."