Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 01 - Headaches Can Be Murder (8 page)

Chapter Eight

Brain Freeze

Duluth & Two Harbors, Minnesota

By the time they left the ME’s offices a few hours later, it was dark and the snow was coming down in fat flakes. It looked like a snow globe outside the windshield of the Highlander.

As Jo pulled out of the parking lot, a loud, insistent ringing emanated from her pocket. She pulled the SUV to the side and fished out her cell phone. “Agent Schwann here.” Pause. “Yes, we’re just leaving the ME’s office now. They found her?” Her eyes widened. “Really? Where?” Pause. “Any withdrawals from the bank account?” She frowned. “Thanks. I’ll get back to you.” She flipped the phone shut and shoved it back into the recesses of her coat.

John looked at her, waiting for her to fill him in. Jo said, “They’ve located the lead inspector who conducted the FDA audits. Her body was found in a hotel on the north side of Minneapolis. She died of an apparent drug overdose.”

John felt sadness, as he always did when he heard about someone desperate enough to take their own life.
What a waste.
“What did they say about the money?”

Jo responded, “The money’s still there. All two hundred grand of it. Oh, and she had just booked a Caribbean cruise, leaving tomorrow. Does it make sense to you that a person sitting on that kind of money and planning that kind of trip would suddenly take her own life?”

“Maybe she felt guilty.”

Jo’s green eyes were dark. “Or maybe someone decided she was a liability.”

John said, “Well, that certainly puts a kink in the whole ‘apparent suicide’ theory, now doesn’t?”

“And heats up our investigation to a whole new level.” Jo rubbed her temple. John thought she looked tired. “Damn it. We really needed to talk to that FDA inspector. All the deposits into her account were made in cash, so we can’t trace them directly to NeuroDynamics.”

“Can’t you talk to some of the FDA inspectors who worked with her?”

Jo tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “My co-workers in Minneapolis are following up from their end. All they’ve learned so far is that the lead agent worked alone most of the time and didn’t share much information with the rest of her team.”

Jo pulled back onto the road. She just missed being t-boned by a beat-up blue Honda sailing through a stop sign. The driver, a teenage boy wearing a hoodie, flipped her off and drove away. “Damn it! Who taught that kid how to drive on slippery roads?”

John raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure if he knew you carried a gun, he’d have thought twice about giving you the bird.”

Jo turned her head to him briefly and gave him a half-smile. “Well, I probably stank at driving in the snow when I was his age, too.” She resumed her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Visibility was only a few feet in front of the hood of the SUV.

John brought the subject back to the case. “So, you’re going to focus primarily on NeuroDynamics?”

“It’s the strongest link we have. After hearing you and Sid talk, I’m convinced this is much more than just a case of human error. My gut tells me we’ve just scraped the surface of what’s going on in this case. You have to admit, a dead FDA agent with a fat bank account and a microchip in the wrong place doesn’t look good.”

John nodded. “It seems to me, this is turning out to be a case of medical fraud—selling people on the idea of some miracle cure for migraines, depression, or whatever ails you. You still think this is about mind control?”

“Yes, I do. I know we haven’t come close to proving it yet, but I keep thinking about that note they found in Calhoun’s hand. He referenced being forced to murder someone. I still say we’re looking at something more sinister than a scam. That’s what we’re going to find out.”

“So, where we headed now?”

“I think we should call it a day. While you were spending all that time discussing brain and gore with Sid, I booked us a place to stay for the night in Two Harbors. It’s only a couple of miles from the headquarters of NeuroDynamics. The hotel was totally booked up for some church group retreat, so they’re putting us in a two-bedroom condo on the property. You’ll like the resort. It’s right on Lake Superior and has its own restaurant.”

“Just as long as it has heat, a bed, and a hot shower, I’m all for it. Who knows, maybe we’ll get snowed in.”

“Don’t even joke about that. We’ve got a job to do. Speaking of which, when you and Sid put your brilliant heads together, did you figure out anything new?”

“Not really. By the way, you were right about Sid. He’s impressive. And thorough. I don’t think there’s anything more we can determine from the body. Unless you can figure out a way to raise the FDA agent from the dead, I think the answers are going to have to come from NeuroDynamics. Have you thought about how we are going to approach them tomorrow?”

She looked away from the snow-covered road for a moment. “I have thought about it. Haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually. I don’t think we’re going to be able to just walk right up to their front door, ring the bell and ask them to hand over all their records. We don’t have enough for a warrant right now. After all, they did manage to get FDA approval to implant the chip. We’ve just got to prove that they used devious methods to obtain the approval—”

John interrupted. “Don’t forget that the placement of the chip didn’t agree with the reports.” He rubbed his chin with the backside of his glove, thinking. “What about gaining entry to their files in a little more underhanded way? My old buddy Dr. Candleworth was desperate to get me onto his staff before. Maybe he’d still be interested in having me come aboard now. Then I could do some snooping.”

She crinkled her nose. “I think he’d see right through that. Sid put him on notice when he called to find out more about the microchip in Calhoun’s brain. And, since you’ve become a celebrity of sorts, helping solve that Cranium Killer case last year, the whole world knows that you’ve worked with the FBI in the past.”

She thought for a moment. “
I
could apply for a job there and work undercover. You could tell me what to look for. I could take pictures of anything that looks promising and pass it on to you. I’d have to get a special type of warrant, but I think my boss will be able to push it through legal channels.”

“Aren’t you forgetting that you are a hometown girl? People might recognize you at NeuroDynamics.”

“No one from the area has had much contact with me in years, except for Sid. Besides, I … um … I changed my last name before I joined the FBI.”

John said, “Now that is intriguing. All right, spill it.”

Jo smirked. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on. Let me guess. You once robbed a bank?”

“Yeah, that’s it. The FBI loves ex-bank robbers on their payroll.”

“Okay then, how about you were married to Brad Pitt and you got tired of all the paparazzi hounding you?”

She burst out laughing, in spite of herself. “That’s definitely not it. Do you really think you can charm your way to an answer?”

He shrugged. “Worth a shot.” He smiled. “You’ll tell me one of these days, though. I have lots of faith in my powers of persuasion.”

“I just bet you do.”

They drove in silence for the rest of the way to the hotel. It was pitch dark by the time Jo slowed the car to a crawl and turned onto a long, curving driveway surrounded by tall pines and birch trees. At the end of the road, a large two-story hotel was lit up, with wings on either side of the main building spreading out into the woods. She parked the car under the broad overhang, and they walked into the lobby.

While Jo checked them in at the front desk, John walked over to the massive freestanding stone fireplace in the middle of the lobby, with a cozy fire blazing. He pulled off his gloves and held his hands out to the fireplace screen. The warmth crept through his body. When Jo walked over to where he stood, he said, “This feels great. Forget the condo. I’ll just bunk here.”

Jo held up a key card. “Come on. Would it help if I told you our condo has a fireplace, too?”

“I knew there was something I liked about you. A girl who believes in creature comforts.”

“Let’s go. We have to drive over to the condo.”

“I can’t believe we’re getting such fast Internet service way out here in the boonies.” John clicked away at the keyboard of his laptop. “Hey, listen to this. I followed a link on NeuroDynamics’s website to an article Candleworth wrote for one of the major medical journals. He says that they are on the verge of a breakthrough to controling seizures, not just migraines and depression.”

She stepped behind John and looked down at his laptop screen. She leaned over, and they quietly read the article.

John had a hard time focusing. When she stood so close to him, he caught a whiff of her perfume. Nothing flowery for this special agent. It was an enticing blend of vanilla and ginger. He inhaled deeply.

She straightened up and crossed her arms across her chest. “Well, would you look at that? That’s where the real money is. Military contracts. Now we’re talking numbers in the stratosphere.”

John whistled. “You’re not kidding. The potential for healing soldiers with brain injuries is incredible.”

“A big contract like that is ripe for abuse.”

John sighed and closed down his laptop. “Enough for now. I’m running on empty. Let’s try the restaurant in the hotel.”

Jo grinned. “You read my mind. I’m famished.”

John finished the last bite of his grilled walleye and chased it down with a swallow of chardonnay. He wiped his lips with the napkin and pushed away from the table, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “That was great! Who would’ve thought lake fish could be so tasty?”

Jo had finished eating her small side salad and half order of manicotti some time ago. Amusement gave way to amazement when he finished an appetizer, a dinner-sized salad, and a large entrée. She shook her head. “What, no room for dessert? Jeez, do you always eat that much? It’s a wonder that you don’t weigh three hundred pounds!”

“I’ve been blessed with a fast metabolism and a tall frame. That, and I swim to stay in shape. Wait until you see me put away breakfast.”

Jo leaned back into her chair and took a sip from her wineglass. “So, Doctor, how is it that a world-renowned neurosurgeon such as yourself has time to spend with the FBI?”

John looked over at Jo. “I love my job. Most of the time, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing.” He shrugged. “But even I need a break now and then. Agent Tinsdale is my old college roommate. Occasionally, he calls me up for help on a particular case that falls within my area of expertise. I was able to reschedule some cases and handed off the rest to colleagues. I find working with the FBI rewarding on a different level altogether.”

“You know, working this case might mean a lot of down time at first, especially while I find a way into the company. You okay with that?”

His lips curved into a lazy smile and he stretched. “Looking forward to a little down time. Besides, I have faith in you. You’ll find info soon enough, and then we’ll both be busy.”

There was a sudden buzzing from Jo’s cell phone that she had placed on the table. She flipped it open and answered it, still thinking about John and all that food. “Hey, Detective Frisco. I was planning on calling you… You found what? Oh, my God!”

Jo’s face turned pale. John whispered, “What is it?”

She shook her head and continued to listen to the detective. After a minute, she said, “Okay, we’ll be right there.” She flipped the phone shut.

“What’s happened? Bad news?”

Jo swallowed and looked off into space. “It’s … it’s Sid. And his wife. They were found in the medical examiner’s offices.” She shook her head, as if to clear it of a mental image.

John’s eyes widened. “Found? What do you mean, found? Jo, what’s going on?”

Tears filled Jo’s eyes. She looked at John and said, “They’ve been murdered.”

His body moved of its own accord. John came around to the other side of the table and pulled Jo to her feet. Wrapping her in his arms, he held her close. He could feel Jo trembling in his embrace.

Their waiter stopped by and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Her hands on his chest, Jo pushed away from John. She angrily brushed at the tears in her eyes. She looked at the waiter and shook her head. “We’ll take the check, please.”

Chapter Nine

The Bun

Last Week of November

On the Monday morning after Thanksgiving a pickup truck occupied every parking space on Main Street. Half of them were Fords and half Dodges. The Lutherans owned the Fords, and the Catholics the Dodges. It had nothing to do with religious doctrine and everything to do with the church membership of the town’s two auto dealers. The trucks were all half-ton behemoths with loaded beds … bales of hay, sacks of feed, deer hunting gear, generators … and with snow plow blades on the front. A couple of them were suspended on gigantic tires, screaming Monster Truck Rally. Among them was parked Chip’s Volvo, a ninety-eight-pound weakling at a heavyweight wrestling tournament.

Chip sat at his usual table-for-two in the corner where he had a full view of the door and the dining room. It was next to the Bun’s unisex restroom. Chip himself had yet to use the cafe’s facilities. His mother had instilled in him a fear and dread of public bathrooms, and he avoided them unless absolutely necessary. Male visitors to the restroom gave him a brief nod and females a nervous smile. He was no longer a stranger, but he felt like the patrons viewed him as an oddity.

Iver lumbered into the café and took the vacant seat at Chip’s table, just as Bernice hustled by with a carafe of coffee in one hand and a mammoth cinnamon roll in the other. The aromas of cinnamon and vanilla wafted across the table.

“The usual for you two?”

“You know, I think I’ll have to succumb to one of those cinnamon rolls instead of my wheat toast this morning,” said Chip.