Another picture showed a youngster in the couple's arms, but here the parents were decidedly younger, straighter, and the child was a little girl dressed in her best-Meredyth as a child. A third photo was of a handsome, square-jawed, dark-haired man, perhaps Meredyth's current age or a bit older. He was no doubt her current boyfriend. The name Conrad was scrawled carelessly across the picture with the words Love and Devotion.
Lucas went to the large balcony windows which looked out over greater Houston, and he stared long at the clean, straight, even geometry of the skyline where Houston's greatest pinnacles stood like lances pointed to the sun. It must be a magnificent view at night, he thought. It was a terrific, first-class, lush, and expensive apartment.
As she packed, Meredyth called out again from the other room. “So, you went to see the judge's digs?”
“I did.”
“You might've had the decency to ask me along.”
“Getting myself past the guards was hard enough. How would I have explained you?”
“You seem quite clever enough to explain away most anything. I heard about your little incident at that gas station the other day.”
“I did what I had to do,” he called back, walking toward her bedroom now and standing in the doorway.
She was leaning in over her suitcase, packing a final cache of underwear. She looked up at him but resumed packing as she spoke. “So, are you going to tell me what you found at the judge's place or not? And what gives with those goblets you took?”
“I'll tell you what I think if you'll tell me how they ID'ed the victim in Oregon, since they had no hands for prints, no head for teeth or features.”
“Birthmark, lower back, right-hand side, a little cherry the family knew about. Besides, everyone in Rogue River was expecting him. Had a picket line waiting. Word had gotten out.”
“Word had gotten out about what?”
“He was planning to merge with a company called ASCAN.”
“And the judge, Mootry, how was he ID'ed? Aside from the fact the carcass was found in his bed, I mean…”Photographs, scars from the war. He was in Korea. Verified by a family member.”
“Whoa, I thought he had no family.”
“No one close, but a cousin twice removed or something flew in from Chicago, I think it was. You know his estate had a lock on it until he could be identified, so all of his charitable donations were cut off immediately, and his will was frozen.”
“Hmm, so all of a sudden this unknown relative shows up, ID's the body, and all the funds are liquid again?”
“He left a fortune to charitable organizations. Every-body's happy.” She zipped and snapped the suitcase closed. “Ready.”
Let me take that for you.”
“How about you? You can't have enough in that little bag you brought from the precinct house to carry you all the way through tomorrow.”
“I'm fine. We'd best not waste more time.”
She nodded. “If you're sure. The plane's not leaving without us.”
He carried the bag to the door, saying, “Let's be on our way.”
Downstairs they packed her car and headed for Houston Intercontinental Airport. Traffic was hellacious even at mid-morning when most people in downtown Houston were behind a desk somewhere. Lucas wondered where all these people were going, and if they wanted to get there any more than he wanted to get to this small town in Oregon.
Meredyth's police dispatch radio crackled to life. Captain Lawrence was calling her. She lifted the receiver and said, “Dr. Sanger, here, Captain.”
“Is he with you?”
“Stonecoat? Right beside me. We're on our way to the airport.”
“I want to talk to Stonecoat, now!”
Lucas frowned, raised his shoulders in a clownish shrug, and took the receiver. “Yes, sir, Captain Lawrence?”
“Stonecoat, I just got a very disturbing call from a Detective Amelford over at the Twenty-second Precinct.”
Oh, hell, Lucas thought. They've already learned about my impersonating Pardee at the lab. Still, Lucas bluffed. “Sir, I'm sorry, but I truly have never heard of anyone by the name of… Detective Abelford, sir?”
“The hell you haven't, and it's Amelford. You know perfectly well he's lead investigator on the Mootry case. You learned as much from Dr. Sanger. What pisses me off, Stonecoat, is that you had the unmitigated gall to cross a yellow line, walk all over a crime scene, and God knows what you disturbed out at Mootry's, and to knock a man unconscious on your way out! I don't know why Commander Bryce chose to overlook your transgressions, Stonecoat, but believe me, I am not looking the other way on-”
“Sir, I swear to you, I don't know what you're talking about.”
“As Bryce said, the intruder's description matches you absolutely to a T, Stonecoat, and now-”
“I'll be happy to stand a lineup, sir, when I get back.”
“If it comes to that, yes, you damned well will, and you'd better have a damned surefire alibi!”
“I do, sir… I do…”
“And?”
“I was with Dr. Sanger all last evening, sir… ahh, going over the case.”
He saw Meredyth visibly stiffen at the suggestion they'd spent the entire night together. She punched him.
“You don't cut any corners, Stonecoat. You go by the book up there in Oregon. You understand me?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
Lawrence cut off the conversation without fanfare, his anger still electrifying the receiver.
“Did you have to tell him you spent the night with me?” she demanded. “He already thinks the worst of me.”
“Oh, cheap shot, Doctor.” But at least he had dodged the bullet on the lab. Obviously, Lawrence knew nothing about that part of his “transgressions” yet.
He offered verbal salve for her wounded ego. “Well, if Captain Lawrence already thinks the worst of you… what harm can it do for him to think you spent the night with me?”
“Damn it, Lucas, I do have a life outside police circles which I would like to protect.”
“Cops don't get to have personal lives. Why should you?”
“Cops don't want personal lives.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I saw Conrad on your mantel.”
“Good, then you see why I don't want Lawrence or anyone else down at the precinct to get the wrong idea- about us, I mean.”
“All I said was we were going over the case files together.”
“I don't think that's what he heard.”
They were in the airport traffic now, exiting 59 at North Sam Houston. She drove for John F. Kennedy Boulevard, which was flanked on either side by runways. They need now only get a parking stub and slot and locate the hangar where military planes flew in and out. “I'm still angry you didn't spend the evening with me,” she said now.
“Really?”
“What I mean to say is… well, the least you could've done was call me after you went out there to the judge's place to tell me what you found. You didn't even bother doing that.”
“I still hadn't made up my mind at that point I wanted to get this… this involved.”
She stared across at him, studying his inscrutable Indian features. “With the case, I hope you mean?”
“Yeah, with the case.”
“So why'd you jump at the chance today when Commander Bryce said to get on a plane with me?”
“An old Indian trick.”
“What's that?”
“Know when to surrender. I was surrounded, wasn't I? And what kind of choice was I faced with? Disobey my superior and go back to the Cold Room, or obey and see the skies over Oregon? What kind of incentive is that? I mean, you did orchestrate that whole thing back there in his office, and don't deny it. You went directly to Bryce, didn't you? Embarrassed hell out of Phil. And by the way, it appears- even though I missed the main event-you did a lovely bit of maneuvering back there. How'd you get the commander so agreeable in the first place?”