The Noding Field Mystery

by Christine Husom

  I shrugged. My dream of a hot bath was fading.

  Smoke leaned on the counter and focused on the clerk. “So, there are no more rooms at the Inn?”

  “No. Sorry, sir.”

  “Would you be so kind to check with the other hotels in town?”

  The clerk furrowed his eyebrows. “I will be happy to check again, in case something opened up.” He typed and navigated his computer mouse for several minutes, shaking his head, every ten or fifteen seconds. He looked at Smoke. “Sorry, nothing. We could check the outlying area, perhaps fifty miles out.”

  I tugged at Smoke’s elbow. “We’re here. We’ve got a room. We’re friends.”

  Smoke looked even more tired than I felt. “Let’s get checked in.”

  We carried our bags to our room on the third floor. Smoke swiped his key, swung open the door, and waited for me to go ahead of him. “Well, it’s clean. That’s something.”

  “Let’s make a pact. We swear Twardy and Dina to secrecy, and tell no one else in the department that we spent the night in a single hotel room.”

  I glanced at the king size bed. “Deal.”

  “I’ll call for a cot.”

  “That’s silly. It’s a big bed. I promise to stay on my side.” I hung my suit on the clothing rack and dropped my bag on the floor.

  Smoke turned to face me. “Your goals are a hot bath and a decent meal. Go soak and I’ll look for a nearby restaurant.”

  “It’s almost seven-thirty, take-out is fine.”

  “As in Chinese?”

  “Sure.”

  “Nah, I’ve been thinking about a thick, juicy tenderloin for about six hours. Ever since you mentioned your mother’s cooking. Take your time with your bath then I’ll do a quick shower. We can sleep in until seven if we want.”

  “Okay.” I carried my bag into the bathroom and turned on the water. I poured a little of the complimentary shampoo under the stream for some bubbles, undressed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, climbed into the tub, and stretched out. The tub didn’t have the slope my own bathtub did, and wasn’t very comfortable. But I told myself that was on par with the not very comfortable circumstances of sharing a single room with Smoke.

  Five minutes immersed in hot water gave me time to reflect on Gage Leder’s death, and what we would learn the next day interviewing Rennie Leder. When Langley Parker’s voice started playing in my head, I drained the water, got out of the tub, and dried off, rubbing roughly on my skin, wishing I could shed Langley from my life forever. Remembering his hands on me caused the skin on my entire body to rise in goose bumps.

  I put on clean underwear, jeans, and a tee shirt. Then I brushed my hair and teeth, and applied a little makeup. When I opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, I saw Smoke bent over the desk looking through a city guide. I dropped my bag next to the built-in dresser. “Next.”

  Smoke looked at me over the top of his reading glasses. “Looks like the town here is big on barbeque. We can do that if you’d rather.”

  “You choose, really. You know I’m about the least picky eater in the world.”

  He nodded. “There’s a restaurant not far, a couple of miles, that I hear has a mean steak and great seafood.”

  I smiled. Leave it to Smoke. “Who’d you hear that from?”

  Smoke stood and dropped his phone on the desk. “The guy I talked to at said restaurant.” The corner of his mouth lifted as he squeezed past me on the way to the shower. My heart speeded up about twenty beats per minute. Stop it, I chided myself. He is my friend and my colleague and my mentor. Nothing else.

  Smoke emerged from the bathroom in record time, smelling clean and looking refreshed. “I feel sorry for the weary travelers in the old days, or people who live in third world countries who can’t spoil themselves with a shower to blast away the cares of the day.”

  “When I go camping, it’s the thing I look forward to the most when I get home. Even more than my own bed.”

  “Which reminds me. I did call for a cot, but their supply was depleted about an hour before I called. I decided not to push the issue.”

  I lifted my hands. “This kind of thing happens all the time in the movies, especially when the man and woman are fighting, or barely know each other. But you know by the end of the movie, they’re going to know each other very well. We’ve known each other many years. It’s not a big deal,” I lied. It was a big deal being alone in a hotel room with Smoke, hundreds of miles from home. But it was one night that would end eventually. What was eleven or twelve hours between friends?

  “I suppose I should stop somewhere and buy a pair of pajamas.”

  “You forgot your pajamas?”

  “Ah, no. Since you know just about everything there is to know about me, why not one more intimate detail? I sleep au naturale.”

  “As in . . . oh. Well, there’s no reason to buy pajamas you’ll never use again.” I felt my face warm in embarrassment. “For tonight, maybe you could sleep in your underwear?”

  Smoke snickered. “I woulda brought a pair of my long johns had I known you’d be stuck overnight in the same room with me. I guess my boxers will have to do.”

  I grabbed my small purse, pulled the shoulder strap over my head, and secured it around me. “You must be as hungry as I am.” Okay, not the best choice of words.

  Smoke looked at my increasingly red face and raised his eyebrows. “Let’s go eat.”

  The restaurant was crowded. Given that it was almost eight o’clock on a Monday evening, we took that as a sign Smoke had chosen well. We followed the host to a table near the back, next to the kitchen door. The smells wafting out made my stomach growl.

  While we were looking at our menus, Smoke said, “I’m driving, go ahead and have a beer if you want.”

  “Join me.”

  “I wouldn’t feel right, since we’ve got my squad car. About the time I’d do that, we’d get in a crash and there would be alcohol in my system, albeit a minimum amount, and it’d give the folks in Kentucky a bad impression of Minnesota law enforcement. I’ll raid the mini bar when we get back.”

  “There is no mini bar.”

  “I guess I’ll have to do without then.”

  “Or you have a beer and I’ll drive.”

  “We’re making too much of this.”

  “Okay then. I’ll have a glass of wine. It will help me unwind.” Maybe. Between the long drive down, phone calls from my nemesis, and sharing a room with my pajama-less partner, one glass may not be enough.

  Smoke studied his menu. “What are you having?”

  “Ribs. When you mentioned barbeque earlier, it made me hungry for some. Finger lickin’ sounds good to me.”

  “I’m sticking with my steak.”

  Halfway through our dinner, we quietly discussed the next day’s strategy. Then Smoke turned his concerned look on me. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed. “We’ve been skirting the issue since Parker called you. This is the first time he’s made contact since he’s been incarcerated, correct?”

  My stomach tightened, and my plate of remaining ribs lost its pizzazz. “Correct.”

  “I’d like to know what in the hell he was thinking.” He stopped and glanced up at the ceiling. “Actually, I wouldn’t. But I do want to know why in the world he called you now. He’s been in Hennepin County for seven months, give or take.”

  “Maybe he wanted to remind me he was still around. Maybe he needed a depraved fantasy fix. Maybe he was afraid I’d forget. His evil eyes. His arms lifting me into the trunk. Our battle.”

  “During which you broke two of his ribs.”

  That put an end to my rib eating pleasure. When I put my fork down, Smoke looked at my plate and said, “Sorry.”

  I shook my head. “I’ve been through therapy, which of course has helped me a lot, but I still have what Doctor Kearns calls a ‘visceral reaction’ here and there.”

  “Understandable. There are times I side with vigilante justice, dealing with people like Langley
Parker. My visceral reaction was to put him out of our misery after he abducted you and tried to kill you.”

  “I remember that day you told me I should have used deadly force. In retrospect, I don’t know why I didn’t.”

  “It’s easy after the fact to think shoulda, woulda, coulda. You followed your training and I’m proud of you. Langley Parker will get his in the end.”

  “As much as I hate to think of seeing him again, his trial can’t come fast enough.”

  “Roger that.”

  It was nearing ten o’clock when we got back to the hotel. “I am dog tired. Were you planning to stay up a while?” Smoke asked.

  “No, I’m not usually up at the crack of dawn. Lights out anytime is fine with me.”

  Smoke glanced around the room like he was looking for something. “How about I use the bathroom, then I’ll hit the hay while you’re in the bathroom?”

  “Ah, sure.” Why was the situation increasingly uncomfortable? This was our third “accidental” overnight together, but the first one involving a bed, and that bed was in a faraway state from our own, no less. Maybe that was the difference.

  “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

  I had to think. “If you’re looking at it, the right side. The left side of the bed.”

  “That works out, then. I sleep on the right.”

  Another thing out of the way.

  Smoke disappeared into the bathroom and I paged through the hotel’s guest services book to see what amenities they offered. If I had brought my swimsuit, I could go for a swim, or relax in the hot tub. I could work out in their exercise room. If I needed to use a computer, I could check out their business center. All useful information if I was ever to pass that way again as a tourist. Most of my vacation time was spent at Minnesota Northwoods resorts and cabins, rustic ones, more often than not.

  “All yours,” Smoke said behind me. He was down to jeans and a tee shirt and bare feet. The room filled with the minty smell of toothpaste. “Well, goodnight,” he said.

  “Night. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” I grabbed my bag and headed to the bathroom. As I prepared for bed, I took my time, giving Smoke a chance to fall asleep. When I slipped quietly and gently into bed, Smoke turned from his back to his side, but didn’t speak.

  I didn’t know I had fallen asleep until I was in the throes of a terrifying dream. I was back in the trunk of Langley Parker’s car, bound and gagged, struggling to free myself, believing there would be no escape a second time. When the trunk opened, Langley Parker glared at me with his evil eyes and smirked. As he leaned in closer to me, I prayed that if I wasn’t rescued in time, my end would be quick, and as painless as possible. Something better happened. I woke up.

  My breathing sounded like I had run a fast five miles, and my heart was pumping to beat the band. The mattress was actually moving up and down under me. I rolled out of bed and crept to the bathroom, then sat on the edge of the bathtub, and tried breathing in and out as deeply and as slowly as I could. I knew I needed to move. I stood, did arm circles, then leg circles, then arm circles again. I jogged in place. When my body finished absorbing the rest of the adrenaline, I tilted my head back, did gentle shoulder circles, and repeated Doctor Kearns’ words over and over, “Langley Parker did not defeat you then, and he can’t defeat you now.”

  After some minutes, I was calmer. How could a dream be as frightening as reality? Almost more so. Especially in the middle of the night when the cloak of darkness added its own degree of scariness. I climbed back into bed, surprised I hadn’t disturbed Smoke. I moved closer to him and slid my hand toward him so my fingers barely touched his arm. I needed to be held and comforted, but having him close was the next best thing.

  I lay there staring into the darkness, wondering if sleep would ever come. The next thing I knew, light was coming in through a crack in the drapes. I was on my side, facing Smoke who was sleeping on his back. I watched his chest rise and fall, and his lips come together and part in nearly silent puffs of breath. I found myself thinking how much I cared about him. The L word wasn’t allowed between us.

  CHAPTER 17

  I looked at the bedside alarm clock, surprised it was almost seven, even more surprised I had slept peacefully after my night terror. Smoke wanted to get to the hospital by eight, so I reached over and touched his shoulder. His body propelled into action before his eyes opened. He crossed the space between us and pinned my body under his before I had the chance to utter his name. My heart pounded against his chest, and his heart pounded against mine.

  “What are you doing in my bed?”

  “It’s Corky, Papa Bear.”

  He shifted his weight to the left. “Geez, Corky, I was in such a deep sleep, it took me a minute.”

  We stared at each other in the dim light. His eyes were half-closed and the look on his face made me weak. “Umm . . .”

  “Ah, sorry, I, ah . . .” He rolled away from me and got out of bed.

  I closed my eyes and heard the bathroom door shut. I was dating Eric and all I wanted to do was throw my arms around Smoke and say, “Take me,” like they did in the old classic movies.

  My love life was a mess. On an intellectual level, I respected Smoke’s position that we couldn’t get romantically involved for a number of reasons. On an emotional level, it was a different matter. I had no control over my feelings. None.

  “Did you go back to sleep?” Smoke asked.

  My eyes flew open. He was standing at the end of the bed, dressed and ready to go. I had been lost in thought. “Nope. Be ready in a flash.”

  We grabbed a decent breakfast at Country Kitchen then headed to the hospital. Smoke had learned Rennie was the supervising registered nurse in the intensive care ward. He calculated that their shift pass-on time was about thirty minutes, and determined a visit any time after seven-thirty was in order.

  “Rennie is all yours. You interview and I’ll watch,” Smoke said as we stepped onto the elevator, going up.

  “Geez, Smoke, that’s not giving me much lead time. I thought the sheriff just sent me along as your babysitter.”

  “Yeah, well I haven’t gone back to diapers yet.”

  “I would have prepared better.”

  “Hey, you’re in interview situations every day. You know what questions to ask.”

  We quit talking when the elevator doors opened and walked in silence to the nurses station. Rennie was standing behind the desk with her head bent over, reading some papers.

  “Rennie Leder?” I said.

  She looked up. Rennie was plain, yet attractive, like her inner beauty had seeped through to the outside. She was a little taller than me, five-seven, and weighed at least ten pounds more than the one-twenty proclaimed on her driver’s license.

  We moved in closer to the desk. “I’m Sergeant Corinne Aleckson, and this is Detective Elton Dawes. We’re from the Winnebago County Sheriff’s Department in Minnesota.”

  Nurse Rennie was stunned to see us. Her eyebrows shot up and her hands flew to her chest and crossed over her heart. “Oh! I talked to your deputy on the phone.” She looked at me. “You’re a young thing, and a sergeant?”

  “She’s older than she looks,” Smoke said.

  “What are ya’all doin’ here? Did somethin’ more happen?”

  “We wanted to meet with you in person, talk to you about your ex-husband’s death,” I said.

  “I don’t know what more I can tell ya. Gage and I parted ways years ago. And as ya’ll can see, I’m awful busy here. I don’t have much time for chitchat.”

  “We understand that, and we won’t take much of your time. Is there a more private place to talk for a few minutes?”

  She paused then said, “Ah, yeah. The chapel.” Rennie turned. There was a woman in scrubs typing information into a form on the computer. Rennie leaned over her shoulder and spoke into her ear. The nurse turned, eyed us a moment then nodded.

  “Folla me.” Rennie led us down one corridor, then another. She op
ened the chapel door, peeked in, and went inside. We were close behind. I tried to remember if I had ever questioned anyone about a criminal case in a chapel before. In many ways, it seemed like the ideal spot. A person might think twice about telling a lie there. Might.

  “Forgive me, but I think it’s a little strange ya’ll took the time, drivin’ all the way down here ta meet with me.”

  “We drive fast,” Smoke said. His stab at humor was lost on Rennie.

  “Do you have any leads?” Rennie asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. Lots of them, in fact, and we thought you could help us out. That’s why we came down here to see you. “

  “I left Oak Lea some years back.”

  “But you’ve kept in contact with Morgan. You even took her to Mexico. Twice. Last year and this.”

  Rennie’s eyebrows barely lifted. “She’s like my daughter. I love her like she’s my own.”

  “Tell us a little about yourself.”

  “I don’t see what that has ta do with—”

  “It helps me if I know a little bit about the person I’m talking to.”

  Rennie’s expression revealed her skepticism, but she said, “I’m from a bitty town south a here. While I was in high school, I looked into nursing programs all around the country. That’s what landed me in Minnesota—the medical community. I picked Saint Catherine’s in Saint Paul. It’s ranked second in nursing programs, after the University of Minnesota. The U was too huge for me. And make no mistake, Saint Kate’s has an excellent program. It’s where my Morgan is now.” She smiled at the thought. “After I graduated, I applied to a few hospitals outside the Twin Cities metro area and got hired at Oak Lea Memorial. Some fine people there.”