Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 01 - Headaches Can Be Murder (16 page)

Exercising some discretion, Chip did not mention how he had not wanted to follow in his family’s footsteps of neurosurgery, the pain it caused, and the rift that now existed between his father and him. He wanted to leave that back in Baltimore.

Chip switched to “Ella Fitzgerald’s Greatest Hits” for the drive back to Turners Bend. Jane hummed along to the strains of “Someone to Watch Over Me.” They listened to the music companionably and did not talk until they were almost back to town.

“What happens after you finish your book? Will you be moving on or staying in Turners Bend?”

“To be honest, Jane, I don’t know. I’m taking it one day at a time right now. I’m seeing where life leads me, as corny as that may sound.”

“You’ve made some friends like Mabel and Iver who would like you to stay. And, I don’t know what magic charm you used on Flora Fredrickson, but she was gushing over you yesterday.”

“And what about you?”

Jane paused, and Chip held his breath for her response.

“Yes, you’ve become my friend, too.”

Chip tried to remember if he and any of his ex-wives had been friends. Maybe Mary, but definitely not with Bambi or Erica. Both had spit him out as if he were a rotten orange and then tossed him into a juicer until all that was left was pulp.

Late into the night Chip replayed his day with Jane. She had some of the same qualities that had attracted him to Mary—she was authentic, the real thing. He hadn’t touched her once during the trip, but his hands were aching to touch her now, to touch her in the same way that John was aching to touching Jo in
Brain Freeze
. Dr. John Goodman was going to be one lucky bastard. Chip realized he would have to live vicariously through his literary better half for now.

Chapter Ninteen

Brain Freeze

Two Harbors, Minnesota

When Jo entered the building, she did not recognize the security guard on duty. He spoke up as she walked past the desk. “Hey. Need to see your ID.” His voice was deep and gravely. Something about it stirred a memory, but the more she tried to recall why it sounded familiar, the more elusive it became.

As it was the first time she had been asked to show her badge up close since she started at NeuroDynamics, her heart raced. She controlled her nerves, though, and spoke in an even voice, “Um, sure. No problem. Where’s Sam, the guard usually on duty?” She unclipped the badge from her shirt and showed it to the guard. He wrote down her information.

He did not smile at her and his eyes showed no emotion. His face was ruddy, and dotted with pock marks. His uniform looked new and still had fold marks from the packaging. The collar of his shirt was tightly buttoned and his nametag read Kurt. “Out sick.” He slid the badge back across the desk towards Jo.

Jo snatched it up and reattached it to her pocket. “Thanks.” She walked down the hallway and tried to calm her breathing. Something did not feel right.

Jo quickly worked through the offices and soon forgot about the unsettling encounter with the new security guard. She wanted to have plenty of free time to wander through the surgical wing of the building. When she entered the chief surgeon’s office to straighten up, she wedged a paper clip into the latch of the door, so that the lock wouldn’t catch when he closed his office for the day.

It was dark outside when the last of the surgical staff left. Jo looked up and down the hallways, and quietly slipped into the office. The office was dark, but the fluorescent lights from the hallway revealed a tastefully decorated space. There was an over-sized cherry desk with a leather upholstered chair and two matching visitor chairs. One wall was covered with diplomas and awards. A ficus tree in a heavy Mediterranean pot stood next to the floor-to-ceiling window that ran the entire length of the room. A faint scent of cigar smoke lingered in the room. Jo wrinkled her nose. “It’s always the doctors that don’t follow their own advice,” she muttered.

Jo slipped on gloves and removed the paper clip from the door latch, quietly closing the door behind her. She closed all the blinds and turned on the desk lamp. The laptop was gone. The chief surgeon must have taken it home. “Damn.” She sat down in the leather chair and pulled at the drawer handle on the right hand side of the desk. The drawer would not budge. Next, she tried the middle drawer. It slid open without resistance.

The open drawer contained a tray of pens and pencils, a stethoscope and a set of keys. With the middle drawer still open, she reached once more for the lower right drawer. This time is pulled open easily. The locking mechanism operated through the middle drawer. She’d seen this before. Satisfied, she began flipping through the files with her index finger. Yanking out the files revealed that they were personnel medical documents. Jo tore off a piece of note paper from a pad on the desk and wrote down the names of the staff and their contact information.

She found nothing of value in the other desk drawers, except the doctor’s supply of cigars. She snatched up the keys she found and looked around the office. Beneath the wall of diplomas stood a cherry cabinet that matched the desk. Jo walked over, clicked on the pen light she kept in her pocket and inserted a key. The drawer creaked as she pulled it open, loud in the silence of the room.

The top drawer contained patient files. Inserting the pen light between her teeth and aiming its narrow beam into the cabinet, she flipped through the tabs quickly, looking first for the file on Mitch Calhoun. It was missing. She looked through all the files, to make sure it had not been misfiled. It was definitely not in the cabinet.

Jo did find the file for Belinda Peterson, however. She pulled it out of the cabinet and brought it over to the desk. Just as she was about to read it, she heard a noise outside the door. She slid the file beneath her shirt and turned off the desk lamp. Jo crept over to the door and opened it just a crack. When she didn’t see anyone, she opened the door further and poked her head into the hallway. No one there.

Jo retrieved the file from her shirt and flipped the light back on. Pulling out her cell phone, she took pictures of all pages that looked relevant. She went back to the cabinet and grabbed a handful of files. Fifteen minutes later, she felt that she had copies of anything remotely helpful and then returned everything as she had found it. Jo rolled her supply cart towards the elevator.

The rest of her shift finally ended and she packed up her things for home. The security guard was not at the desk when she left the building.

She put up her hood when she stepped out into the frigid night. The cold stole the breath from her mouth and her nostrils threatened to freeze shut. The full moon reflecting off the snow gave Jo’s surroundings a blue other-worldly cast.

Her teeth were chattering by the time she reached the Highlander. As she held up the remote to unlock the car, she heard the squeak of boots running behind her. Startled, she turned around.

“Hey. Forgot something.” She came face to face with the guard who had stopped her at the beginning of her shift. The moonlight exaggerated the pock marks on his cheeks, and she could smell tobacco on his breath. He held out her insulated lunch bag. “Found this in the locker room when I was makin’ the rounds.”

Jo took the bag from his hands. “Uh, thanks. You were in the ladies’ locker room? Isn’t that a bit … inappropriate?” Her heart was pounding. She wished she hadn’t left her gun at the condo. She felt naked without it.

He leaned against the side of her SUV. His smile was wolfish and his eyes glittered. “You never know what you’re gonna find. Take care now on that ride back to your condo.” He turned on his heel and walked back to the building.

“How do you know I live in a condo?” Jo whispered as she watched him go.

Jo unlocked her car door and climbed in. She locked the doors behind her. Her hand shook as she inserted the key and started the engine. Digging her cell phone out of her pocket, she took a deep breath and then released it slowly. She dialed. “John. Just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back.”

Jo waited for the engine to heat up. A shiver that wasn’t entirely due to the outside temperatures rippled down her body. Looking out the windshield, she saw snowflakes sparkle like glitter in the vees of white created by the powerful security lights in the parking lot.

Clicking on the seat warmer, she spoke aloud. “It’s not like I’ve never dealt with creeps like him before. Worse, in fact.” She shook her head, disgusted with herself for getting worked up about the security guard. “Jeez, trained at Quantico and in the field for six years. Acting like a rookie with first-day jitters.”

She was comforted by the fact that John was expecting her back at the condo soon. Jo was surprised to find that she couldn’t wait to see him again. They had fallen into a comfortable routine. She was eager to share her day—and the files she had filched—with him.

Thinking about John made her forget for a moment about the security guard, and she relaxed into the warmed gray leather seats. She closed her eyes. Alone in her car, she could face the growing attraction she felt for the doctor. Sure, he was smart. One didn’t become a world famous neurosurgeon without being brilliant.

But there was more to it than that. He was caring and considerate. She was beginning to trust him in ways she didn’t think possible. John had a wonderful sense of humor, and she found herself making jokes, just to hear that deep laughter of his.

Of course, she couldn’t help finding him attractive. He was strong, tall and lean, with a swimmer’s body that would catch any woman’s eye. More and more often, she found herself watching him, wondering what it would be like to have those lips on hers, hearing his deep voice close to her ear.

She sat up straight. “Damnit! That’s it!” Her heart thudded as she finally figured out why the security guard’s voice sounded familiar. Jo’s hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. She was filled with a rage she didn’t know she possessed. Jo looked toward the headquarters’ entrance. As if on cue, Kurt walked out, the wind pulling the heavy door out of his hand and knocking it against the wall. His shoulders scrunched up to his ears and he pulled on black leather gloves as he walked.

Jo scooted down in her seat, so that he wouldn’t see her. She quickly turned off the Highlander. Peering over the dash, she watched him trudge through the parking lot. He didn’t look in her direction, and climbed into the cab of a red Ford F-150. He started up the truck and took off, the back end of the pickup fishtailing as he headed towards the exit.

Jo waited a moment, then pulled out of the parking lot and followed him. “Calm down, Jo. Being pissed off is not going to help you catch this guy.” She took a deep breath. But every time she tried to tamp down her anger, Kurt’s voice replayed in her head. She heard him say over and over again, “We’re not here for your money, old man. Where is it?”
One of the bastards that killed Sid.

Jo trailed the truck, down the two-lane road that led to the highway. She stayed far enough back. She couldn’t risk having him spot her in his rear-view mirror. When Kurt turned south, she likewise turned right. They drove through downtown Two Harbors and headed towards Duluth. The roads had been plowed earlier in the day, but the billowing snow was accumulating once again.

Following the truck, Jo thought about all the times that Sid had been there for her, all the ways he had helped her through her grief, and her anger.
I owe him.
Her jaw clenched as she watched one of his killer’s drive in front of her.

The taillights abruptly glowed a bright red. “Why the hell is he stopping?” She didn’t have a choice. She had to slow down. The pickup idled for a couple of minutes and then Kurt spun it around on the slippery road and faced her. Her eyes widened as the snowplow mounted on the front of Kurt’s truck headed straight for her Highlander, picking up speed.

She came to a complete stop, put the car in reverse, trying to get out of his way. Looking over her shoulder, she backed up. When she glanced back at the advancing truck, she saw that Kurt was almost on top of her. He smiled then. She could see his face clearly above the snowplow.
He’s enjoying this!
Jo’s heart raced.
I won’t die this way
.

Slam!
As the truck hit the front of Jo’s SUV, her body jerked with the impact of the deployed airbag. Dust-like particles of powder puffed into her face, causing her eyes to burn. The airbag deflated at once, as the gas escaped through the vents in the fabric. Impatiently swiping a hand across tearing eyes, she floored the accelerator. She tried to get away from him, but Kurt kept the front of the truck on the bumper of her vehicle. He pushed her backwards, ever backwards.

A bright light appeared in her rear-view mirror. A large utility truck was coming up behind her. The horn blared. She was going to be crushed between the two trucks as they rushed at each other. Her voice began as a whisper, “Oh, my God. Ohmigod! OHMIGOD!” Jo reacted without thought. She cranked the steering wheel hard. Time seemed to stretch out forever as the Highlander spun away from Kurt’s truck and skittered across the snow-covered highway, the rollover warning signal beeping loudly in her ears. The anti-lock brakes shuddered beneath her right foot as she came to a stop on the shoulder at the opposite side of the road.

She heard the scream of the utility truck’s brakes when the driver tried to stop. He struck Kurt’s pick-up head on. The crunch of metal on metal was deafening. Jo rushed out the door, running to where the two vehicles had collided. The driver of the other truck was slumped over the wheel. Jo checked for a pulse. Nothing.

Sprinting over to Kurt’s truck, she pried open the passenger door. Residue from the deployed airbags hung in the air. She ripped the airbag away from his body. He was in bad shape. There was a gaping wound on his forehead and blood covered his face, flowing freely. The front end of the truck had been compressed at impact and Kurt’s legs were crushed under the dashboard. His eyes widened as Jo leaned over him, and he smiled a terrible, bloody smile. He coughed out, “You’ll … never catch ’em. They’ll just … move.” His eyes went blank and the security guard was still.