Red Solaris Mystery Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Bourne Morris

  “When was the last time the contact heard from him?”

  The chief fixed me with a softened expression.

  Wynan put his hand on my shoulder.

  The chief coughed. “About a week ago, Morgan met with the contact. They spoke for maybe two minutes. Morgan said he had connected with a group of traffickers and thought he was in with them and trusted enough to be given the job of driving one of their vans between here and Sacramento.” The chief gave another look in Wynan’s direction. “We think he’s on the road most of the time but still being watched. So he has to be careful.”

  “I thought he was supposed to pose as a pimp from Chicago looking to buy back one of his girls.”

  “He did. And that’s his cover. But when the opportunity to learn about the routes and schedules for bringing girls in and out of Reno came up, he took it. He’s hoping…we’re all hoping to make a number of arrests soon.”

  “Who is his contact?”

  “Sorry, I can’t tell you that.”

  I sat back in my chair, exhausted and filled with anger and frustration.

  “Red, why don’t you wait for me in the car? The chief and I have some catching up to do.”

  It was clear I was not going to learn any more, and the look on Wynan’s face suggested he might be able to get useful information out of his old friend if I left them alone in the room. I stood up, thanked the chief and headed for the door, eager to get some air and a chance to think by myself. “I’m going to walk over to the library, Wynan. Please come find me there.”

  The air outside had turned cooler and the sky overhead was gray. A light spring rain had started to fall, and in the high desert, rain was good news.

  I pulled up the hood of my coat and started to walk toward the library. It was one of my favorite places in Reno. A good place to think quietly and sort out my increasing anxiety. The Reno library was a block away and the architecture alone enchanted me. A massive atrium filled with plants invited even those not in search of a book, just perhaps a tranquil moment away from the city’s bustle.

  I noticed a man crossing the street, his face hidden behind an umbrella. He wore a shabby tweed overcoat, too heavy for the warm spring weather. Something about his stride made my neck tingle.

  I increased my pace toward the library. The man reached my side of the street and lifted the umbrella. I almost fainted.

  “Hello, Meredith.”

  I looked into the face of a man who had once terrified me, who had once been my worst enemy. He was more wrinkled now and stooped with age, but still fierce looking and armed with an umbrella and a sturdy cane at his right side. I had to catch my breath and decide whether to run back into the police building or speak.

  “Hello, Simon.”

  Simon Gorshak stepped closer and tucked the cane under his left elbow. He hesitated a moment and then held out his hand. I was dumbfounded. This was the man who had tried to destroy me and all my hopes for a career as a dean. “You look well, Dean Solaris.”

  My hand stayed at my side. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live near here now.”

  I nodded. My breathing was shallow and the instinct to run was powerful.

  “Please don’t be alarmed, Meredith. I’m quite changed from the person I was before.”

  I stared at him. Changed? Not likely. Simon had been the kind of enemy one never forgets or forgives. At one point, when he was still on the journalism faculty, I was convinced he had killed the former dean and was set on killing me. I had been wrong, but he still frightened the living daylights out of me.

  “It’s good to hear you say you’ve changed, Simon. You were dreadful before.” After I was appointed interim dean, Simon was furious and had threatened me at every opportunity.

  His chin went down and he sighed. “I know I was dreadful. And I know I owe you a profound apology.”

  I was still stunned. And unconvinced.

  He looked up, his pale eyes no longer filled with hatred. Now he was just a tired old man. “Meredith, if you could just give me a few minutes. There’s something I need to tell you, a confession of sorts. I need to make amends for my sins against you. I would very much like to buy you a coffee.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Yes. There’s a small coffee shop back there just across the street if you would be so kind.”

  I’ll never really know why I agreed to sit down with Simon Gorshak, but something in his eyes tugged at me. Besides, the coffee shop was right across from police headquarters and I decided I could leave anytime. Instinct overwhelmed logic, yet it turned out to be the best decision I made during that entire afternoon in Reno.

  The shop was small. The furniture seemed new and the paint looked fresh. Two patrolmen sat at the counter. I figured Simon would not do anything dangerous this close to the police. Bright leather-covered chairs and wooden tables sat in a row before a long bar with wooden stools. Other than the two patrolmen, we were the only patrons. I sat us by the front window so I could keep a lookout for Wynan when he left headquarters.

  A pretty waitress, resplendent in clanging bracelets and extra earrings, took our orders and came back with coffee for him. Simon twisted the fingers on his bony hands and remained silent until she had left us.

  I reconsidered. I would get up and walk out. Simon had called me some disgusting names, insulted my professionalism and made my first days as interim dean absolutely miserable.

  His eyes pleaded and I seemed stuck to my seat.

  “I was in terrible shape when I was at the university,” Simon began. “My wife’s decision to leave me and then her death made me lose my mind. I was obsessed with the thought that my only salvation was to become dean again after Henry’s death. I despised you and all the others who supported you.”

  “You behaved dreadfully.” I remained cold and remote, waiting for Simon to turn into his old snarling self and lash out at me. But I was no longer afraid of him. Even in my confusion, I knew I could handle whatever was going to happen next.

  His bony hand seemed barely able to lift his cup. “I did behave dreadfully. And now I regret all the damage I did to the school and all the damage I tried to do to you.”

  The sky darkened. Heavier rain hit the sidewalk. “You said you had a confession.”

  He took a sip from his cup. “The notes that were in your mailbox.”

  Oh God, those terrifying notes telling me to go back to Ohio or I would meet the same fate that sent Henry to his death.

  “I always thought you must be the person who wrote them.”

  “I was.”

  The rain increased and the wind came up and blew drops onto the window. Simon and I sat in silence. I thought about the terror I’d felt when I read those notes. Joe and I had both been certain my life was in peril.

  I could barely look at Simon, but finally I found my words. “Why did you write anonymous notes? I remember you had no trouble insulting me to my face.”

  “I didn’t write the notes to insult you. I wrote them to frighten you.”

  “Well, you did, damn you.” I braced my hands against the table edge. It was time to leave.

  “Meredith, please don’t go.”

  “What more do you have to say?”

  “That I was terribly wrong. I’ve kept tabs on the school since I left. I know now that you were the right person to be dean and that you’ve done a wonderful job.”

  I stared at him. Wrinkles lined his gray eyes and ran down his cheeks. An attempt at a sad smile played around his thin mouth. “Please forgive me.”

  I relaxed and breathed deeply. “You gave me a fearful shock, Simon. I was sure you intended to kill me. Joe said he received a report you’d bought a gun.”

  “I did, but not to harm you or anyone at the school. It was just for protection. I live in a dangerous neighborhood here and I’m old. I walk ho
me through a street of pimps and whores and even the women frighten me now.”

  Pimps and whores. The people Joe was seeking. I wondered if Simon had seen him. But I was still wary. I had to be cautious.

  “Do you see anyone from Landry?”

  “No. But I’d like to see Edwin again, and maybe one or two others about a book I’m writing. Do you think Edwin would meet with me?” Edwin Cartwell had once been Simon’s ally but had turned against him when Simon tried to damage the school.

  I looked long and hard at Simon Gorshak. Now, all I saw was a fragile old man, alone and in need. It was hard to keep seeing him as a threat to me or anyone. “I’ll ask Edwin. Give me your number and address, and I’ll let him decide if he wants to contact you.”

  Simon reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small stack of cards. He peeled one off the top, and his hand trembled as he gave it to me. It was plain, just his name, address and telephone number. The corners were bent and the stock was dirty. I suspected those cards had spent a long time in his pocket, unused and unneeded.

  We both stood. “Thank you. And thank you for your time today.”

  “It was a relief to find out you never meant to kill me,” I said, trying to smile. “Good luck with the book.”

  “You’re a kind woman, Meredith Solaris. Kinder than I deserve.”

  I shook his cold hand and headed for the door. I could see Wynan emerging from the police station as I went out into the rain.

  The swish of the wipers on Wynan’s windshield was the only sound in the car as we drove back through the streets of Reno to the freeway.

  “You’re very quiet,” he said as we came to the ramp leading up to the route that would take us home.

  “I ran into someone I hadn’t seen for a long time. An old enemy who turned out not to be a danger to me after all. Joe will be happy to hear about this when I see him again.”

  “I’m afraid it may be a while before either of us sees Joe.” Wynan’s voice was low and soft. His eyes fixed on the road and his hands gripped the steering wheel. My stomach muscles contracted.

  “You found out something else from the chief.”

  “I found out about Joe’s contact.” Wynan cleared his throat and slowed a bit. The rain was coming down in sheets and the road was slick.

  “Something the chief didn’t want me to know, right?”

  “Right. And you’ll have to keep this to yourself. Police don’t like civilians being informed about their business.”

  “Wynan, for God’s sake, tell me…”

  Wynan inhaled and kept his eyes straight ahead on the dark road. “Seems Joe’s contact was another undercover cop working as a bartender in the casino where Joe was a pit boss before he joined the trafficking ring.”

  “And?”

  Rain pelted the window, obscuring the view ahead.

  “The bartender got into a fight two days ago in an alley behind the casino. He’s now in the hospital with stab wounds, a severe concussion and a broken jaw.” Wynan, eyes fixed on the road, inclined his head toward me and his big hand came over mine for a moment. “Sorry, Red. This is not good. It means Joe probably can’t get to his contact but still has to maintain his cover.”

  The pit of my stomach turned to ice. “Joe’s out there on his own.”

  “The Reno PD are looking for him, but…”

  “He’s alone.”

  I lay in bed that night and let the tears I’d held in all afternoon finally come. They streamed down the side of my face and dampened the pillowcase. Joe Morgan had disappeared and might be dead. Wynan said he refused to believe Joe was dead, but if Joe’s contact had been beaten and stabbed, what did that mean? Alone in the dark, I imagined the worst: Joe’s unconscious body crumpled up in a car trunk. Then I saw him on his knees in the desert with a gun pointing to the back of his head. In Nevada there were still bodies buried in the desert that had never been found.

  Joe’s beautiful body. Long, lean muscles, tender hands, thick dark hair, wonderful green eyes. My Joe, who read poetry and watched basketball with equal passion. The one man I had ever really wanted to share my life with. If the baby was a boy, please let him look like his father.

  I felt a thump as my dog landed on the bed and put his soft nose into my neck.

  “Oh, Charlie. You haven’t been allowed in this bed since the night Joe named you.” I put my hand around his silky body and pulled him close. “Remember? I couldn’t come up with a good name for you and Joe named you Charlie. And later Joe told me Charlie had been the name of his best friend. And Charlie had died his senior year in…” My sobbing took the words away from me, and I lay in my damp bed holding my dog and trying with all my might to believe in the efficacy of prayer.

  Chapter 12

  The rain continued through the night and into the next day. The newscaster on the television chirped out the stats in a tone too optimistic to bear. Rain may be good news in the high desert, but I was of no mind to celebrate.

  Once settled behind my desk and faced with a pile of folders and a schedule, I resolved to get through as much work as possible in the morning and then get together with Wynan in the late afternoon to plan our next course of action—whatever that would be.

  I called Rosie in the hospital. Her voice was getting stronger. Naturally, her first question was about Joe’s progress finding Cathy.

  “Joe’s pretty deep undercover now. So we haven’t heard anything from him.”

  “Oh.”

  I could hear her disappointment, but it could hardly match the despair I was feeling. “You just concentrate on getting well and helping Norm O’Hare find the guy who did this to you.”

  “I met with Norm yesterday and told him everything I could remember about the man. I may have given him some helpful information, but we’re not sure it will make a difference.”

  “I’m glad you and Norm talked, Rosie. I’ll try to visit you soon.”

  I walked across campus, hoping it would help me regain my self-confidence and my equilibrium. Daffodils lined the quad. Usually, their bright bobbing heads had a sanguine effect on my disposition. I needed a lift because a plan was beginning to form in my mind, and I knew depression was the antithesis of good strategic thinking.

  Maybe there was a way Wynan and I could search for Joe. I fingered the card still in my jacket pocket. Simon had said he owed me. We could start with him. Maybe there was a way he could help us figure a way through the neighborhood of pimps and whores he occupied.

  Sadie was reading at her table in Gormley’s. “How are you feeling?”

  “Mornings are still rough, but your saltine and soda recommendations have helped.”

  Sadie removed her glasses and stood up to kiss my cheek. I appreciated her unusual gesture. Public affection was not her thing. “The nausea will ease up after a while. Any news of Joe?”

  I collapsed in the chair opposite her and began the odyssey of my trip to Reno with Wynan and my encounter with Simon.

  “Wow, you had quite a day.”

  “And quite a night too. I don’t think I slept more than an hour or so.”

  Wilson, who had been standing near enough to hear, poured fresh cups of tea. “Joe Morgan’s a big, strong guy who knows how to take care of himself,” he said, sitting beside Sadie.

  “Didn’t know you even liked cops,” I said.

  Wilson shrugged. “As a rule, I don’t. But Joe’s the exception. He’s a brilliant man. He’ll know how to maintain his cover.” His expression was uncommonly sympathetic. This was the new Wilson, I had to remind myself.

  I was still getting used to the idea of Sadie and Wilson as a couple. Sadie’s white hair was thicker than his, but they were of similar height and thinness and both wore the same eyeglasses, which made them look more like siblings than lovers.

  I remembered my manners and decided not to prattle on ab
out my anxieties over Joe. “How are you two doing?”

  Sadie put her hand over Wilson’s. “Better than we expected. We told my son and his wife about our situation last night at dinner.”

  “How did they take it?”

  “My son wished us much happiness. He got up from the table, gave me a hug and kiss, shook Wilson’s hand and asked him to take good care of me. It played out just as my son’s meeting with his future father-in-law had done ten years ago. So similar, it made his wife laugh.”

  “How did she react?”

  “She kissed Wilson on the cheek and told us she was delighted for us.”

  Wilson winked. “I felt much like a college boy basking in his in-laws’ approval. Curious how things reverse later in life. Both of them were very parental. So, guess what? We’re thinking of replacing you and Joe as the new hot couple on the Mountain West campus.”

  I felt an acute pang of jealousy. I knew I should have been happy for them, but all I could think about was my own distress. They sensed it.

  “You going to be all right?” Sadie asked.

  “I’m thinking Wynan and I should go look for Joe. Ask Simon to help us, maybe introduce us to someone in that part of Reno who knows where the sex trade flourishes.”

  Sadie drew back in her chair, appalled. “You’re pregnant. You’re not thinking straight. Probably lack of sleep. Darling, you can’t run around some sort of red light district in Reno looking for an undercover detective. It’s stupid and dangerous, for you and for him.”

  Wilson looked more sympathetic. “We know how much you want to help Joe. But this could backfire, Red. You could get him killed. You could get yourself killed meddling in his work and messing with these people.”

  “I know. Wynan probably won’t agree to it anyway.”

  “Wynan certainly won’t.”

  But Wynan did agree to listen. He and Nell both showed up at the house ten minutes after I had arrived home. I was feeding Charlie and they were seated at the kitchen table.