by Annie Bruce
“Davis. I was checking on him when I heard you come up the hallway.”
“Is he - dead?” The last word fought its way up from her throat.
“No, just unconscious.” Stepping past her he pushed on the door.
“Is he going to be okay - I mean shouldn’t we call the paramedics?”
Following close behind she watched as he tried to revive Davis, silently relieved that it wasn’t Morris lying unconscious on the floor.
“He’ll be okay. His pulse is good, he’s breathing, but he’s got a nasty bruise on his head.”
It was nasty. “What do we do now?”
“Stay here while I get the first aid kit from the car.” He was gone before she could object. She leaned over to see if Davis showed any signs of consciousness. She didn’t like being left alone with someone who clearly needed more help and attention than she could give. Administering first aid to two little boys with cuts and bruises was one thing, but an unconscious man was beyond her expertise.
Looking for anything that might make him more comfortable she saw a cell phone on the floor. She picked it up carefully wondering if this was the cell phone Davis was using when they were cut off.
Morris returned with a dark satchel and began extracting a variety of first aid supplies. He looked up to see her examining the cell phone as if she’d never seen one before. “Where did you find that?.”
“On the floor,” she continued to examine it as she pointed. “Over there.”
Morris took a vial and snapped it in half and waved it under Davis’ nose. The strong odor reached Maggie and made her stand up to get away from it.
“If that doesn’t wake him up, nothing will.” She waved a hand in front of her face hoping to clear the air enough to breath.
Davis began to stir, moaning while trying to push the vial away from his face. He opened his eyes, struggling to focus, shielding them from the light that emanated from the bedroom ceiling.
“Maggie, turn the lights off and close the curtains.”
“What hit me?” Davis’ words were slightly slurred as he tried to get up.
“Whoa, buddy, not so fast.” Morris put a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him down. “You’ve got a nasty bruise on your head. Better take it easy.”
“No problem.” Davis’ swallowed hard. “Just do me a favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Stop the room from spinning around will ya!”
Morris reached back into his bag and pulled out a cold compress, squeezed it several times and placed it on Davis’ head.
“Better?”
“Yeah, that’s better.”
“Can you tell me who hit you?”
“I wish I could. I’d like to find him and return the favor.” Davis moaned as he shifted the compress on his head trying to steady it. “Got me from behind – didn’t even hear him coming.”
“How do you know it was a he?” Maggie was curious. “I mean if the person came up behind you how do you know?”
Both men stared at her, Davis with only one eye open. She took their sudden silence for annoyance and stepped back quietly.
The expression on Morris’ face changed as he rose and turned towards her. “The person you saw running away and getting into a boat - was it a man or a woman?”
She thought hard for a moment. “I don’t know for sure. The person was too far away – but I think it was a man.” Almost defensively, she added, “he, if it was a he, was dressed in black from head to toe. Like a ninja.”
Helping Davis to his feet, Morris gently guided him into the living area and to the most comfortable looking chair. “Davis – why did you come up here in the first place?”
“I was following a lead.” He grimaced as he shifted the cold compress on his head. “If this looks as bad as it feels, it must look really bad,” pausing, he squinted his eyes.
“I did a search of the property records and found this cabin listed in Owen Cassidy’s name. It seemed like a good place to hide something so I thought I’d investigate. Only thing is someone else beat me to it.”
“Is that when you were disconnected from me?” She pulled the cell phone from her pocket.
“Yeah, I think so. The last thing I remember is talking to you on the phone and then nothing. Until just now when I came to and saw your two faces staring down at me.”
“So, what do we do next?” She was anxious to go home.
Both men looked up at her. “Maggie, who else knew about the cabin?” Morris was back in detective mode.
“I’m not sure. Owen bought it after his wife died. He wanted a private place to grieve.”
“Think, Maggie. Could there have been anyone else close enough to Owen who would have known about this place?”
“Fred!”
“Who’s Fred?” Both men asked at the same time.
“Owen’s stepson.” Flashing back to her brother telling her that Fred called and wanted to talk to her made her wince. “I didn’t know him very well.” Both men waited for her to tell more. “I only met him once – at a holiday party.”
Morris didn’t take his eyes off her face. She squirmed under his intense scrutiny. No wonder he was a detective, convinced he could make anybody talk.
“Is there something else, Maggie?” The detective was back.
“That day I met you at the restaurant, after you left, my brother told me that Fred called asking for me.” She willed herself to look at him.
“Did you talk to him?”
“No.” She glanced down at her feet. “I forgot all about it until just now.” She braced herself for his words of disappointment.
“Call him now.”
“What?”
“Call him and tell him that you’re sorry you didn’t get back to him sooner.”
“Okay, but I have to get my purse.” The jingle of keys as she pulled the set Morris gave her from her pocket reminded her that she desperately wanted to return home and the safety of her own little world. She missed her boys and her normally quite life.
Walking towards the car the sound of gravel under her feet reminded her how frightened she was when she thought Morris had been shot. As afraid as that made her the fear of never seeing him again was more powerful. Suddenly he was beside her as she neared the car.
“Is Davis okay?” It was the only thing she could think of.
“Better than when we found him, but I think it’s going to take him a little while to recover.” Morris gently took hold of her arm. “Look, Maggie, if you don’t want to make the call just let me know.”
She looked up into those same eyes that melted her heart the very first time she met him. “Do you think it will help?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then let’s do it.”
Leaning into the passenger side of the car she looked for her purse under the seat where she hid it. Grabbing it she noticed a letter wedged in between the seat and the center console. It looked important.
Pulling it out, she noticed the letters IAB - Internal Affairs Bureau. Why would IAB send Morris a letter? That usually meant one of two things, either Morris was under investigation or he was a rat. Cops didn’t like other cops who cooperated with IAB. That much she knew. Morris didn’t seem the type. That only left the suspect part. She didn’t know which was worse.
Gently pushing the envelope back where she found it, she decided she didn’t want to know. The words, “He’s not what you think,” echoed in her head. Her earlier sense of conviction began to fade.
“Need some help?”
“No, no. I got it.” Extracting herself from the car she turned towards Morris. Pulling her cell phone from her purse the display indicated a missed call.
“There’s a message on my cell phone.” She flipped it open. “I need to see who this is first.”
“Of course,” he stepped back towards the cabin. “I’ll just wait inside with Davis.”
Maggie nodded in his direction and then turned away, cell phone to her
ear.
Morris headed towards the cabin’s door, a sadness overcoming him in a way that made him walk more slowly than usual. The fleeting look of kindness on Maggie’s face made him wince. Would they ever get back what they had for those few and very brief days? His heart ached. There was an emptiness now that was once filled with the warmth and desire he’d shared with this woman whom he’d known for such a short time.
Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d known her all his life and that she had felt the same. Their thoughts and moods seemed to mesh perfectly. It was uncanny. Could the talk show noise be right? Could there be that perfect soul mate out there for him and he’d know her when he met her? Was Maggie his soul mate?
As suddenly as their bond had been created, outside influences began to tear through the delicate fabric of emotion that was just beginning to be woven between them. And, now someone was trying to kill them.
“Everything okay?” Davis spoke from beneath the cold compress still resting on his head.
“Just waiting for Maggie to check her messages.”
“So, what’s the game plan?” One eye looked out at Morris as Davis pulled the compress up just enough to make contact.
“The plan is for Maggie to call Owen’s stepson and see why he called her in the first place. It’s the only lead we have right now.”
“I see.”
“You got any better ideas?”
“Nope, not a one. Maybe when my head stops throbbing I’ll be able to think more clearly.” He returned the compress to its assigned place and leaned back in the chair. “Let me know if I can help,” his words were pushed through clenched teeth, “–just not sure how much good I can do right now.”
“You just keep that compress on ‘til the swelling goes down.” Morris’s voice was firm as he turned to keep Maggie in sight. “By the way,” his voice trailed off just a little as he looked through the cabin’s narrow front windows, the more expansive windows located on the back to take full advantage of the lake view. “How did you get up here?” Morris hadn’t seen any other cars around when they first arrived.
“Train and then a cab and then on foot.”
“Well at least we can all go back in my car and I won’t have to worry about you driving with that head injury.”
Watching as Maggie walked towards the cabin, Morris could see a worried look on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Who was the message from?
“I’m not sure.” She was almost in a state of shock. “It sounded like Owen but it didn’t make any sense.”
“May I listen to it?” A surge of energy shot through him.
She handed him the phone, her hand shaking. He took her hand in his and guided her towards the other chair in the living area.
Dialing voice mail, he gestured for her to enter the code. Hands trembling, she handed it back to him.
Morris was good at reading voices too. He learned a long time ago to listen to what people didn’t say. He listened patiently as the programmed operator’s voice walked him through the options followed by the message. The voice certainly sounded like Owen Cassidy’s but the choice of words seemed forced. Something had gone wrong. He replayed the message.
“Maggie, I know that this might surprise you but this is Owen. Yes, my dear I’m very much alive. Forgive me for deceiving you. I want you to stop looking into the project I asked you to deal with earlier. It’s not important anymore. I never should have involved you in the first place. Please forgive me my dear and remember that I think the world of you.”
Someone was obviously forcing the older man to say what he did. It was almost as if he was saying goodbye. Owen was in trouble but Morris’ instinct also told him that he was more valuable to his captors alive.
Obviously, more people than originally thought knew Owen was still alive. Then again, maybe he had trusted the wrong person all along. It wouldn’t be the first time a high-ranking police official was guilty of something so serious. Powerful people sometimes did very foolish things, and the one person who had the most access to Owen was the Captain. Morris’ distrust of his fellow officers was growing exponentially.
The situation was more serious than ever. The only person Morris knew he could trust completely was himself. Even Maggie couldn’t be fully trusted in the emotional and mental state she was in. He needed to find out who was behind all of this and fast. Their lives depended on it.
“Maggie, we don’t have much time.”
She sat up straight. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he?” She tried to stand up but he gently held her down.
“Maybe, maybe not.”
Davis removed the compress from his head and sat up. “Well, at least the world isn’t spinning around anymore.” He tried to ease the tension, his glance moving from Maggie to Morris and back again. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I think someone has Owen.”
Maggie gasped.
“We don’t know that they’ll hurt him.” His eyes implored her to be strong.
“What makes you so sure that they won’t hurt him!” She stood despite Morris’ gentle but firm efforts to keep her seated and calm. She paced the floor. He knew by now that it was her way of releasing nervous energy.
“Maggie, Owen told you to stop working on the project in his message.”
“So?” Her brows furrowed.
“Did he usually refer to it as the project when the two of you would discuss it?”
Maggie looked down at her feet. Morris had also learned that this indicated she was searching her mind for information.
“No, no.” Her voice was excited at the discovery. “He called it the Maltese Falcon.” Her excitement gave way to disappointment as she slumped back in the chair. “I asked him once what he meant by that and he said he’d tell me when this mess was all over.” She looked up at him. “He never had the chance to tell me.” She leaned back with an exasperated sigh. “And, I never read the damn book!”
Neither had Morris.
“The Maltese Falcon, hum.” Davis rubbed his chin as he tried to recall what the story was about. “The Maltese Falcon was a priceless statue encrusted with hundreds of very expensive jewels but stolen by pirates en route to its destination.”
Maggie sat up in the chair. “But Owen never mentioned a statue or jewels or anything priceless like that.” She paused, sounding defeated again. “And, I didn’t find anything in the documents about that.”
“What else do you know about the story?” Morris looked at Davis, impressed with the other man’s knowledge.
“Well,” Davis paused not eager to say the next few words, “Sam Spade’s partner is killed.” Sensing more than seeing Morris’ reaction, Davis continued, choosing his words carefully. “And he spends the better part of the movie trying to find out who did it and to find the statue. When he does get the statue it’s a fake - a ruse for the real thing.”
Morris’ mind was running on full throttle. Just how much did Owen know about his partner’s murder?
“As I recall the man who delivered the statue was the Captain of a cargo ship and after he’s wounded he manages to find his way to Sam Spade’s office with the statue. Finding his partner’s killer leads Sam Spade to who stole the falcon in the first place.” Davis answered the question Morris was just about to ask.
“So, we need to find out who killed Smith in order to find out where Owen is and who’s been stealing from his company.” Morris turned towards Maggie. “Think, Maggie, is there anyone Owen mentioned that he thought was dangerous?”
“No.” Her voice sounded helpless.
“We’re wasting our time here.” Morris gathered up his stuff. “Let’s go back to Chicago.”
“Wait a minute!” Maggie was a bit miffed. “What about Owen?” She stomped her foot for emphasis.
“We’re going to find him, Maggie.”
She didn’t budge.
“Trust me.” He extended his ha
nd towards her as his eyes implored her to follow his lead. “Trust me.” His voice softened.
She wanted to but the words, he’s not what you think, haunted her. To find Owen she needed him, needed someone with his investigative skills and experience. She couldn’t do this alone. Reaching out she took his hand. “Okay.”
But their quiet moment was soon interrupted by the sound of approaching vehicles. Suddenly Maggie didn’t feel so confident or safe anymore.
Chapter 13
“Don’t look now but I think we’ve got company.” Davis’ words broke through the silence.
“Damn.” Apparently, even this far out and away from civilization gun shots caught somebody’s attention. “I’ll talk to them. Everybody just remain calm.”
Morris edged his way towards the front of the cabin as a voice boomed through a bullhorn.
“This is the Sheriff, come out with your hands up.”
Maggie held her breath as she watched Morris leave the safety of the cabin, hands raised above his head. The Sheriff and his men were armed and as far as Maggie was concerned, dangerous.
“Shouldn’t we go outside too?”
“It’s best to let Morris handle this.”
Outside the safety of the cabin, Morris stood very still as one of the sheriff’s men patted him down, pulling Morris’ weapon from its holster and disarming him.
As Maggie watched the events unfold she flashed forward again to imagine a life without him in it, even though he’d been in it for such a short time. Her nagging doubts about the IAB letter and everything else moved aside as she searched deep in her heart for the truth. This man was kind and thoughtful in ways that most people weren’t anymore. With love and time, the rest would work itself out.
But was it too late? Morris said he was there for her whenever she was ready. His promise was an anchor for her right now, giving her a renewed sense of hope for the future. It was enough for now. It had to be.
Morris slowly lowered his arms and reached into his pocket with two fingers pulling out his badge and waited for the Sheriff to take it. The Sheriff studied it then headed towards his vehicle motioning for one of his men to keep an eye on Morris.
