"Don't move," she said when he reached for the tray. She popped a California roll into his mouth. "You're trapped," she said. "You can't go anywhere. You're mine and I've got you."
"I like being got."
"Good."
"This is the deal," he said.
"Oh. Tarzan." She laughed in mock, breathless wonder.
"I will have nothing to do with the Highlands. After that, you do any kind of environmental law you desire but never against timber owned by Otran. Never. Not even a smidgen.''
"Yes?"
"And I will do no timber law except Otran."
"Will Otran go for this?"
"He already has."
"I'll need to talk to Patty."
"We already have."
"We? Who we?"
"Your father."
"Ah, I don't-"
He kissed her heavily on the mouth. "Don't start." He kissed her again. "Trust me."
"You absolutely will have utterly nothing to do with the Highlands."
"Utterly nothing."
"I do love you," she said.
"I suppose you won."
"You won me," she whispered.
Certain that Maria would be recuperating somewhere- probably at her parents'-Corey placed a call to Jessica Lyon. Jessica, a successful fund-raiser, was one of the few members of the McCafferty inner circle who would give her information.
"Haven't heard from you in a while," Jessica said in her usual fund-raising voice.
"So what's going on these days?"
"Well, I'm sure you heard Maria Fischer was kidnapped and escaped."
"No," Corey said. "What happened?"
"Well, nobody really knows. Some crazies snatched her and took her to a barn in the woods."
"Was she hurt?"
"I don't think so. She's in Palmer. Somebody said she called the office this morning."
For the next ten minutes, Corey forced herself to listen while Jessica chattered on about the kidnapping and upcoming environmental issues. Finally Corey closed by dangling a possible donation of $2,500, explaining that she was in Alaska and could do it only after she returned.
The German remained downstairs. Corey was surprised that he had broken so easily. She kept probing for more, but there wasn't any more. With no resistance Hans Groiter told her everything. When she gave him sodium pentathol, he became harder to understand but told her nothing new. She'd had enough experience to know when men were telling the truth. What troubled her was the fact that Groiter knew nothing of the little Jap shit who seemed to haunt her.
Seemingly nothing remained but to get rid of Dan, Maria, and then Groiter. Somehow she needed to convince the authorities that Groiter was the culprit and that he had fled. For that, she had sworn off a grave in the dirt. Bodies had a way of coming to light. She had a different plan for Hans. Even though it was a pain in the ass, she would keep him around for the few days it would take to create all the right fingerprints and other physical evidence.
Janet was turning into a fine soldier. Surprisingly, Corey was attracted to her in more ways than one. They slept in the same bed and both enjoyed the consolation of another warm body-a female body. That was the one thing that Janet had taught Corey instead of the other way around. Perhaps men were completely expendable, after all. And once she got some self-confidence, Janet had guts. So Corey took the risk of including her in her plans.
They needed a couple of extra-large travel cases on wheels and were going to town to buy them.
"Are you ready to go?" Corey asked Janet, who had just come up from the basement after feeding Groiter. True to her word, she gave Groiter real food because he talked.
"I'm ready. I fed the beast, emptied his bucket. He wants clothes, though."
"He's got his blanket. That's enough."
They walked into the garage, jumped in the Land Rover, and headed out the driveway.
"I want to get Kenji Yamada before this is over. That asshole is the one behind all this. Polluting, raping the land. He's gotta die if there's any justice."
"I suppose you're right," Janet said.
They were turning right onto the county road when Corey had an impulse. Reaching under the seat, she pulled out her Colt. From the glove compartment she took out a clean Smith amp; Wesson 9 mm and handed it to Janet. Backing up into the driveway, she turned away from town to check the small side road where she had found Groiter and the Spaniard the day they came calling. Poking the Land Rover's nose down the grown-over track, she saw the broken foliage. She slammed on the brakes.
"This could be from before-that I told you about. Or we might have some visitors. Probably berry pickers. Keep the gun hidden."
Corey stuck the. 45 down the front of her pants and pulled out her blouse. Janet did the same. Walking quietly down the road, they heard a chattering squirrel and a jay in the distance. They came to a bend and Corey crept up to a tree. When she looked around, she saw a parked four-wheel-drive.
"I don't see any berry pickers." They approached the vehicle cautiously with the guns drawn. Nobody. It was a Toyota Land Cruiser. New and loaded.
"Come on," Corey said. They passed an obvious trail to the house. Running to the end of the road, Corey turned off on a small trail clear enough that men could run single file. "Most don't go this way," Corey said over her shoulder. They made a large loop used by the berry pickers. To either side there were redwoods and dense huckleberry, mixed with salal ground cover. Eventually the smaller trail intersected the larger. As they neared the main trail, Corey slowed and then crept forward. They listened. Soon they heard the swish of brush. There were whispered words. Janet and Corey crouched low in the brush.
"Speak of the devil," Corey whispered, recognizing Kenji Yamada in the lead. "Dumb shits, all tight together in a row."
All three men wore bush clothing that looked like it came out of a Macy's catalog. Corey motioned Janet to kneel. The trio would pass within twenty feet. She held out her hand to Janet and mouthed the word: "Gun." Janet placed the Smith amp; Wesson in Corey's hand, and she popped the safety.
When the men were opposite Corey, she rose with utter calm, aiming point-blank. Mouths dropped open, open hands went up. Corey shot. Both pistols cracked simultaneously. Crimson mushrooms sprung onto the torsos of the two men following Yamada. They dropped with barely a quiver.
"Get your hands on your head or you're as dead as they are," Corey said to Kenji, who still stood openmouthed. When Corey turned to look at Janet, her partner was down on one knee, shaking. "Get used to it," she said to Janet. "These guys play for keeps."
Yoshinari watched the fish in his aquarium. It stood twelve feet high, two feet thick, and ten feet long with a capacity of 2,000 gallons of salt water. There was tranquillity in the looking, and he blocked out all that was going on in America, knowing that after a time of rest his mind would create clarity of vision. A rainsquall came and went; his grandchildren ate their lunch and retired for a nap. His wife, saying nothing, and making no sound save the slight rustle of her kimono, set tea in front of him. His eyes remained opaque, and he saw nothing but the fish.
When at last the rain began to fall a second time, he rose and walked to the edge of the porch overlooking the garden. It was time to decide.
There was a deep irony in the fact that the Schneider woman, a creature whose destiny had been tampered with by Groiter, now had him in her control. From all that they could tell, he had told her everything. So adept was Shohei that he had managed to get copies of all the woman's tapes- Groiter's entire confession. It was a fascinating tale indeed. Should he rescue Groiter? She would almost surely kill him. What should he do about the lawyers? About Kenji?
Maria spent most of her time in Dan's house, notwithstanding her insistence that she be free to go wherever and whenever she wished. Then, quite conveniently, Dan's home office became her office, with her laptop on-line instead of his floor-model computer. Dan's fax line became her fax line, his phone her phone. He emptied the filing cabinets so she could have files shipped from Sacramento. She had everything she needed right there. Dan and her mother made that point with regularity.