Finding Sarah

by Terry Odell

  Colleen looked around, then came in and shut the door. She leaned over the desk. “Be straight with me, Randy. How are you doing?” Her deep green eyes demanded the truth.

  Randy looked down at his desk. “I’m dealing with it.”

  “She’s good for you, you know. Let her in.”

  He paused for a moment, then looked up and stared back into those eyes. “I have.” Never mind that this case might end up pushing her away.

  “Good. Here are the phone numbers you asked for. Shop and emergency home contacts.”

  Randy took the list, scanned it and glanced at his watch. He set it by the phone. “Thanks. I owe you.”

  She moved to the door. “I’ve got to go. Anything else you need—help with the case, escort duty, whatever—call me.”

  “Be safe.” Already dreading the false alarms from those who would want him to check out a single book out of place, or a blouse off a hanger, Randy started phoning the merchants. He’d barely finished the last call when Dr. Lee called.

  “I’ve identified the poison.”

  Randy ripped off a clean sheet of paper and clicked his pen open. “What was it?”

  “Are you familiar with ciguatera?”

  “No. What is it?”

  “It’s a kind of seafood poisoning.”

  “How do you spell it?” Randy wrote down Dr. Lee’s reply. “Go on.”

  “It’s caused by a dinoflagellate—”

  “Whoa. Slow down. English, please.”

  “Sorry. A microorganism. This one produces a poison, ciguatoxin, and all three cats tested positive. The toxin is common in large reef fish, like barracuda and some groupers. One of the early ways that fishermen tested for tainted fish was by feeding it to cats.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “I admit, it’s not a particularly pleasant thought, but that was the way they made sure their catch was safe.”

  “So you think someone fed tropical barracuda to my cats?”

  “Probably not. There’s a synthetic toxin. While I was in vet school, I worked in a local lab that manufactures test kits. They used a synthetic in the process.”

  “How local?”

  “It’s in Portland. Med-Tekke Industries. I can give you their number.”

  “Thanks.” Randy wrote down the number she dictated. He’d call them later.

  Dr. Lee went on. “Othello is recovering quickly, but apparently your cats ingested a much higher dose. It wouldn’t take much—the synthetic is highly concentrated. I can’t lie to you, Detective, their condition is critical. But the fact that they’re still fighting is a good sign.”

  Randy’s throat tightened. “I see,” he managed. A sip of coffee helped. “Dr. Lee, if I brought you the cats’ toys, their food and water, would you be able to test for this poison?”

  “I should.”

  “I’m on my way.” Randy snatched his jacket and dashed to his truck.

  On the drive, the churning in his gut was back, but this was the good kind of churning—the kind he got when he was following a lead. At the vet’s office, Randy approached the receptionist. “I was speaking to Dr. Lee about testing for poisons.”

  “She’s expecting you. Why don’t you have a seat?”

  Dr. Lee appeared moments later. “You can come back now, Mr. Detweiler.” She held the door for him.

  Randy gathered his paraphernalia and followed the doctor to her office, her rubber soles squeaking softly on the tile floor. She motioned Randy to a chair and took a seat behind her desk.

  Randy got right to business, laying his packages on her desk. “I brought their food, water and all their toys.” He pointed at the mouse in the plastic bag. “I don’t recognize this one. I’d suggest you start there. Please keep everything in case we need it as evidence.”

  “I’ll get to it tonight. I’ll call as soon as I know anything.” She stood and looked at him, a solemn expression in her deep brown eyes. “Would you like to see your cats?”

  “Please.” Fighting the feeling that he’d be saying goodbye, he followed her down the hall.

  She stopped in front of a large door with a glass window. “They’re semi-comatose, so don’t be alarmed if they don’t respond.” When she pushed the door open, he followed her into a narrow room with a bank of stainless steel cages along the far wall. The antiseptic smell was stronger here and the sweat trickled down his neck.

  Dr. Lee unfastened the front of the first cage. Starsky lay there, an IV dripping into his front leg, the neon green bandage in stark contrast to his black fur. “Can I touch him?” Randy asked.

  “Of course,” Dr. Lee said. “I have to get back to my appointments, but Erin’s here to answer any questions.”

  “Thank you. For everything.” Randy reached into the cage and stroked Starsky with an index finger. “Hi, guy. They’re taking good care of you.” His voice caught and he swallowed hard. “You rest and get well, guy.” He did the same for Hutch and stood in front of their cages for several minutes, watching their small chests rise and fall with each breath. Before he left, he glanced at Erin. She gave him a sympathetic smile. He couldn’t muster one in return.

  Randy walked out to the parking lot and looked at his watch. Nine-twenty-three. This was going to be a long day.

  * * * * *

  Randy sat in his pickup for a full ten minutes before going inside the station. Head lowered, he hurried to his office and shut the door. Thank goodness Kovak was still on vacation—he had the place to himself.

  Work. He needed to work. He looked at the pile of papers on his desk. One thing at a time. Prioritize.

  Timberline Lodge confirmed Billy Brandt worked for them, but he’d been giving lessons at the time of the phone call. Scratch him from the list. A call to the receptionist at Consolidated told him they had three employees named Adams, two male, one female, none named Andrew, and the phone number Mazzaro had given him wasn’t one of theirs. He’d tackled phone directories and reverse directories when the chief called.

  “In my office.”

  Dreading the moment, Randy obeyed, tapping on Laughlin’s doorjamb before walking in.

  Laughlin looked up from his files. “Fill me in on your Gertie case. Woodford has her, right?”

  “Yes and no. They have her for the Woodford and Cottonwood robberies. She’s not the person who held up Sarah Tucker’s store.”

  “What about the robberies in town last year? Did she do those?”

  “I’m still working on that.” Randy studied his fingernails. “I blew it, Chief. I brought Sarah Tucker to Woodford for a lineup. I was sure she’d ID the woman and I could use that ID to connect her to Consolidated. I didn’t check with the other victims first. But I’m doing that today. I need to pull some comparables from our photo files for an ID.”

  “Not like you, Detweiler.”

  Randy looked up. “I jumped to a conclusion and left out some steps. Won’t happen again.”

  “You’re damn right it won’t happen again. You know better than to get involved. I want reports on all your open cases before I go home. And I’m planning to go home early today.”

  So much for following up on Adams. “Yes, sir. On my way.” Randy got up to leave.

  “Detweiler.”

  Randy turned back. “Sir?”

  “You don’t look so good. Something the matter?”

  He hesitated. But there was no lying to the chief. “Someone poisoned my cats. I’ve been … distracted.”

  A few of the lines in Laughlin’s face dissolved. “You know who?”

  “No, but I’ll bet a week’s pay there’s a connection. One of Ms. Tucker’s neighbors—her cat was at the vet with the same symptoms.”

  “Look into it.” He paused. “Oh, and I suddenly remembered something else I have to get done before I go home. End of the day for those reports will do.”

  “Right.” Randy walked double time back to his desk and pulled the files on the other three Gracious Gertie cases. He took the photo of Gertie and
brought it to the clerk. “I need you to find me four other women of similar height and build. Hair color doesn’t matter—she wore wigs. Full body and head shots. Bring them to me ASAP.” Nothing like a chewing out from the chief to help you focus.

  * * * * *

  Sarah hung up the phone and put away her bank statement, satisfied she was in control. For the first time since the robbery, she felt like Sarah. Randy hadn’t called with an update on her case. Maybe she’d pissed him off last night, but she was tired of letting everyone else tell her how to live her life.

  It was almost five when he called. She could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “I’m still wading through paperwork, but my eyes are crossing, I’m starving and … I miss you.”

  All testiness floated away like a carnival balloon. Give him a break. The man had finally dealt with his grandmother’s death, his cats were barely alive, and he was doing his job. “I miss you, too. I should be free by five-thirty. Want to meet at Sadie’s?”

  “I had something else in mind. I thought we’d go to Martinelli’s.”

  “Martinelli’s?” Quiet, private, on the outskirts of town, someplace where his shaky hold on his emotions wouldn’t be in plain view. She warmed at the idea that she wouldn’t have to avoid Randy entirely while her case was still open. After all, he’d laid the ground rules, so he ought to know what was acceptable.

  But Martinelli’s was where she and David had shared special dinners, including one shortly before he’d died. And it was one of Chris’ favorite hangouts as well. The thought of the two of them bumping into each other was not something she wanted to deal with. She searched her mind for an alternative. “I’m not in the mood for Italian,” she countered. “What about Rob’s?” It was even more remote and likely to be nearly empty early on a Monday.

  “That’ll work.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” As she went through her closing procedures, Randy’s grief wouldn’t leave her alone. She knew all too well that leaping back into work masked the symptoms, it didn’t cure.

  At the tap on the front door, Sarah peeked through the window and felt a smile spread across her face. There was no mistaking Randy’s silhouette and she unlocked the door. Her grin faded as she saw the slumped shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. She ached for him.

  He gave her a smile, one that shone over his exhaustion. “You ready?”

  She nodded. “Are you sure you’re up to this? You look a little … tired.”

  “You mean I look like hell, but yes, I’m up to this. And you look lovely, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Randy’s touch as he helped with her coat sent goose bumps down to her toes. She shivered.

  “You cold?”

  “No. Quite the contrary.” She smiled up at him and they walked down the block to where he’d parked. “Nice clear evening,” Sarah said, trying to find something neutral to talk about. “Look at the stars peeking through.”

  “Should be even better when we get to Rob’s.” Randy’s truck lights flashed as he used the remote to unlock the door. He pulled it open for her and extended his hand. “Watch your step.”

  When he climbed behind the wheel, Sarah studied him in the overhead light of the cab. His eyes were bloodshot and the muscles in his jaw moved as he clenched and unclenched his teeth. Then the light went off, leaving him in shadows.

  “Randy, we don’t have to do this.”

  “Please. Drop it. You deal with things your way, I’ll deal with them my way. Besides, don’t you want to know what I found out?”

  “Of course, but we don’t need to go to Rob’s for that.”

  “Look, I’m tired. And hungry. You’re not the only one who gets too busy for meals. Rob’s isn’t that far. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Sarah conceded and twisted in her seat so she faced Randy. “Tell me what you detected, then.”

  “Good news first. Mazzaro’s story checked out. Consolidated owns the building and plans to use the apartment to house new employees until they find somewhere to live, since they haven’t been able to rent the place in over a year. You shouldn’t have any more people looking in your window.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “But if the guy who broke into your apartment was part of the Mazzaro scheme, it looks like all he got was your computer files.”

  Might as well tell him now. “Umm … maybe not.”

  His head whipped toward her. “What do you mean?”

  “I was balancing my checkbook, and I noticed a discrepancy. I called the bank, and they said I’d set up an on line account last Tuesday, and there was a fee to set up on-line banking. I explained it was an error, and they removed the charge”

  Tuesday. The day of the break-in. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “You had enough to deal with. Besides, I’m not in the habit of calling the police to help me with my finances, thank you very much.”

  His jaw was working again. “I shouldn’t have missed it.” She saw his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel.

  “You’re like everyone else, caught up in the Internet. I’m not. I have a bare-bones dial-up I use for email, maybe ten minutes a day. You know, some people still use things like checks and paper bank statements. Easy enough for anyone to open my desk drawers and see my records. Since I didn’t have an online account, he didn’t need to hack in. He created one using my information. But, it’s over, it’s done, it’s fixed. No harm, no foul and can we move on?”

  “This is part of an ongoing investigation. I’m supposed to be kept informed.”

  “I’m informing you now. I know the bank tellers and they said they’d make sure nobody could access my accounts. And tomorrow I’ll go change them. The bank will do a full investigation. See. I took care of it. All by myself.”

  “Sarah, I have a job to do.”

  “And I have mine, and banking is part of it. It’s done.” She turned to watch the trees speed by the side of the road.

  * * * * *

  They walked across Rob’s unpaved parking lot, Sarah half skipping to keep up with Randy’s long stride. As they climbed the wooden steps to the entryway, Sarah felt Randy’s hand on the small of her back. When he held the door for her, she realized that she hadn’t been this comfortable, this much a part of someone else’s life, in over a year. It felt good. Before Randy opened the door to the restaurant, Sarah stopped him. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  “It’s all right. We’re both strung a little tight.”

  Comfortably ensconced in a booth, Sarah leaned forward. “Did the vet get back to you about the poison?”

  “She knows what it was, so she’s treating the cats. I brought her all their paraphernalia, and she’s going to check for poison tonight.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose before looking back at her. “I saw them. Hooked up to IVs. Helpless. They didn’t know I was there.” His voice cracked.

  “They’ll make it.”

  A bored-looking waiter hovered by the table. “Getcha something to drink?”

  “A glass of white wine for me,” Sarah said. She looked up at Randy, who was staring at the table.

  “Club soda,” he said without raising his eyes.

  “Gotcha. Be right back,” the waiter said. He plopped two menus on the table and shuffled away.

  Randy buried himself behind his menu, and Sarah studied hers without speaking.

  Once they had their drinks and ordered their meals, Sarah moved the candle aside and grasped Randy’s hands, wondering if her tiny hands could offer the comfort she felt when his enveloped hers. His long, tapered fingers, with hints of calloused roughness, seemed more like the hands of an artist than a cop.

  She gave a squeeze. “Why don’t you give me the bad news about Gertie? Make it official.”

  “I think you guessed it. All three of the other shopkeepers picked her out of the stack of photos without a moment’s hesitation. Gracious Gertie is in custody in Woodford. I have no idea who robbed you.”

  Although she had expe
cted it, a wave of dismay sluiced over her like a waterfall. “What now?”

  Randy took a gulp of his club soda. “I keep working.”

  The waiter returned and placed salads and a basket of hot sourdough bread in front of them. Sarah lifted the basket, savoring the tangy aroma of the bread. “For now, let’s forget work and enjoy the meal.” She offered the basket to Randy. He pulled out a piece and slathered it with butter, holding it poised in front of his mouth, waiting for her.

  “Eat. Don’t wait for me. I’m enjoying my wine,” she said.

  Randy started his salad, accompanied by the crunch of the crusty bread.

  When the waiter brought their entrees, Sarah watched as Randy attacked his chicken. The man must have been starving. Even small talk seemed too much of an effort for him. He ate with undisguised relish, his enjoyment sensual. Sarah worked on her salmon and left him to his meal.

  After declining dessert, Sarah looked at Randy. Some of the strain had left his face, but the exhaustion was still there. “We’d better be going,” she said. “You could use some sleep.”

  Randy set down his coffee cup and motioned for the check. He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You’re right.” Randy pulled out his wallet, left some bills on the table and stood up. “Shall we go?”

  “You know,” Sarah said. “I’ve been alone in that apartment for over fifteen months now. I think being scared and angry last night was a lot easier than all those nights of feeling abandoned and alone.”

  Randy squeezed her shoulder. “You should feel safe and warm at home, not scared, angry, abandoned, or alone.”

  Sarah allowed some of her weight to rest against Randy, and a few more butterflies were laid to rest. They stepped outside and lingered on the restaurant porch for a moment. She looked up at the sky. “All that’s missing is a full moon.”

  Randy laid a hand on her shoulder. “That’s about a week and a half away. Maybe we can come back.”

  “I’ll put it on my calendar.”

  Sarah took his arm and started down the steps. The restaurant had never filled and Randy’s truck was off by itself in the parking lot. He opened the door for her. Before she climbed in, she looked up at him. “I need a favor. A big one.”