Ceremony
Page 29
Panting and in pain from her shoulder and her hip, she scrambled into a crouching position on the small jet.
The plane sped up. She looked out the window and the group of people—Kep standing halfway between the maintenance building and the tarmac—were receding. The jet was on the runway, accelerating.
She reached for her gun in her holster.
It wasn’t there.
Shit. It must have fallen out when she jumped into the plane.
She rubbed her forehead. What was she going to do?
The plane kept speeding up. If she didn’t decide soon, she and Annika would be crashing the plane into a city block or two.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She rushed into the cockpit and jumped forward.
Her elbow connected squarely with Annika’s temple. Annika’s head snapped to the side, then she turned back, growling.
A movement across Annika’s torso—
Bernadette jumped backward and heard the sound of ripping fabric. She looked down—Annika had sliced through her puffy coat. She couldn’t feel any cut on her skin—but she didn’t have time to check.
Annika reached up, the knife glinting from the cockpit lights.
Bernadette rushed under the blade, the top of her head hitting Annika’s chin.
A clatter of metal on metal—Annika had dropped the knife.
Bernadette jumped onto the throttle control and pulled it hard, all the way back, and the plane jerked suddenly, slamming to a stop. Bernadette lost her balance and fell into the instrument panel, smashing her injured shoulder. She heard a bang, then a bump: the tire on the landing gear blowing out.
She barked in pain, then scrambled to her feet as the plane rocked to a stop.
Annika was standing in the small cockpit too, a crazed look in her eyes.
“I didn’t think you’d try to stop me,” Annika said. Her lip was cut and blood dripped down her chin.
“I didn’t think you were the killer,” Bernadette said.
“I wasn’t supposed to kill anyone.”
“Then what happened, Annika? You’ve killed four people.”
She snarled. “It’s all your fault.”
“My fault? You killed Tommy before I even got into town.”
“If you hadn’t chased Nick down the street,” Annika said, ignoring Bernadette, “we would have killed the lampreys that night. We had to abort because of you.”
Bernadette remembered what Lightman had said. “You and Tommy were both on call on Tuesday.”
“Yeah, that’s right. But we had to switch to the next night instead. And Eddie was on call then. We couldn’t risk him getting the alarm notification.” She frowned. “Then your cool-as-ice co-worker had to follow me from my dorm to the lab.” Annika’s nostrils flared. “I thought I was pretty good at losing a tail, but I wasn’t thinking straight.” She gave Bernadette a withering stare. “If you’d stayed where you were on Tuesday night, no one else would have died.”
Bernadette kept eye contact. Where did the knife go? She wished she hadn’t dropped the gun on the runway.
Sirens. Surely Annika heard them too.
Then Annika drew her hand up—holding the knife. She launched herself at Bernadette with a scream.
Barely sidestepping the blade, Bernadette felt it catch the inside of her puffy coat.
But this time she was ready. Bernadette jerked her torso—her shoulder screaming in pain—and her arm came clear of the sleeve, the blade still embedded in the coat. Annika’s face contorted.
Bernadette kicked out and caught Annika’s leg.
Annika fell forward, face right onto the wall separating the cockpit and passenger area and collapsed onto her stomach.
Bernadette jumped onto Annika, a knee between her shoulder blades, and pulled her hands behind her back.
She was shaking from the exertion, sweat pouring off her brow. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding, and pulled herself completely free of her shredded coat.
It was over.
Bernadette let out a long, slow exhale.
“Annika Nakrivo, you’re under arrest for murder.”
The sirens were louder, now right in front of the door to the plane.
“Anything you say can be used against you…”
As she finished the Miranda rights, Bernadette reached over the narrow cabin, knee still in Annika’s back, and pushed the button for the door release.
The hydraulics whined as the door with the built-in stairs slowly lowered. Two police cruisers were fifty feet from the jet, and Officer Lamar Chesapeake was inside the cabin first, handcuffs already out, cuffing Annika’s hands behind her back. He pulled her to her feet, then turned to Bernadette.
“You okay?”
Her heart pounded and her hands shook, but she nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?”
Bernadette gave him a weak smile. “Give me a minute.”
Chesapeake nodded and led Nakrivo down the stairs.
Then Bernadette was alone on the jet. The plane was eerily quiet. There were no sounds from the runway.
She looked down at her ruined puffy purple coat, Annika’s knife caught inside it, and briefly wondered if she could expense a new winter jacket.
She sighed and closed her eyes. Would Maura think she was worthy of becoming an agent again after this? She’d certainly gone above and beyond. Although running onto the plane put herself in danger—and it didn’t serve to protect Kep either.
Bernadette opened her eyes, steeled herself, and turned toward the airplane door—a fresh wave of pain shot through her shoulder as she started down the stairs. She’d have to go to the hospital.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Arm in a sling, Bernadette stood in front of the Outsider Hotel. The sun was out, but it was far too cold without her coat, which would stay in evidence for a long time. She looked across the street: a thrift store stood next to the bagel café; maybe she’d run over there and buy a cheap winter jacket.
Her phone rang in her purse and she looked at the screen. Sophie.
“Good morning, sweetie.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“You’re not in school.”
A short laugh. “Mom, it’s Saturday.”
“Right. Sorry—sometimes when I’m working a case, I forget what day it is.”
“Did you catch the bad guy?”
She thought of the faceless people at Parr Medical who had paid for the murders—but at least Annika was in custody. “Sure did.”
“Good. Does that mean you’re coming home?”
“In a few more days. I hurt my shoulder. The doctor won’t let me back on a plane until he sees the results of the x-rays.”
“Oh.”
“Everything okay?”
“Well,” Sophie said, “I guess.”
“How’s your dad doing?”
“Oh, he’s fine. Couldn’t be happier.” Sophie’s voice was thick with disdain.
“What’s the matter?”
Sophie clicked her tongue. “Nothing, really. I, uh—Lisa doesn’t like food she says is unhealthy.”
“Oh. Well, you’re old enough to make your own meals now. I can—”
“And the way she chews. I want to strangle her.” She paused. “When are you coming home?”
“Monday, I think. If the doctor lets me go.”
“Okay. I miss you.”
“Me too, Sophie.” Bernadette looked up to see Maura’s rented SUV pulling in front of the hotel. “Okay—my boss just got here. I have to go.”
“You have to work on a Saturday?”
“I know, being an adult sucks sometimes. I love you. I’ll see you soon.”
Kep got out of the passenger’s side, opening the rear door for Bernadette, and she climbed in to find a paper bag with The Elegant Doughnut printed on it.
“What’s this?”
“A present,” Maura said. “It’s not much, but you put yourself in danger so t
hat Annika wouldn’t crash that plane into a neighborhood. The least I can do is get you a lemon-pistachio old-fashioned donut. There’s a maple-glazed croissant donut in there too. The woman behind the counter insisted I get one of those for you.”
“Only because it was the most expensive item on the menu,” Kep said, “and yet I can still smell the sodium hexametaphosphate, which is decidedly not real maple.” He sighed. “I hope the Wisconsin old-fashioned donuts taste better than the Wisconsin Old Fashioned cocktails.”
“Don’t let the locals hear you say that.” Bernadette took a bite of the lemon-pistachio. It was delicious. “You sure you don’t want one?” she said, holding the maple-glazed donut out to Kep.
“Oh, thou lump of foul deformity,” Kep muttered.
“What did you say to me?” Bernadette tilted her head.
“The donut,” Kep said quickly, “not you.”
In the rearview mirror, Bernadette saw a smile touch the corners of Maura’s mouth.
Bernadette sat back. “I don’t see why I have to be there for this today.” She took another bite.
“Annika asked to speak with you,” Maura said. “I don’t understand it either, but she won’t give up the name of the person—or people—who hired her. I don’t know if she’s scared for her life, but we’re already giving her in-prison protection. Not a whole lot more we can do. Maybe she’ll talk with you in the room.”
“And you have to talk to her before her transfer to Taycheeda Correctional,” Kep said from the passenger seat, “unless you want a two-hour drive on snowy roads instead of a ten-minute drive through downtown.”
“It’s fine,” Bernadette said, and took another bite.
Her phone rang. Was that Sophie again? No—it was a 414 number she didn’t recognize.
“Becker.”
“Hey, Bernadette. It’s Lamar.”
“Oh—hi.” Bernadette stole a glance into the front seat, but Kep and Maura were talking to each other, not paying attention to Bernadette’s call. “This is a nice surprise.”
“I was planning to visit you in the hospital, but you’d already gone.”
“Yeah. They didn’t even keep me overnight. Just an ER visit. Got x-rays and a sling, another appointment in two days.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Good?”
“Not that you’re injured, but that you’re—uh—still in town. Are you free for dinner?”
Was he asking her on a date? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date. Even a night out with Barlow seemed like a lifetime ago. “Uh—yeah. Yeah, I’m free. Maura and Kep are leaving this afternoon. I hadn’t planned anything but sitting around my hotel room, trying to entertain myself until Monday’s doctor’s appointment.” She realized she sounded a little overeager and evened out her tone. “You know how it is, though; a girl’s gotta eat.”
“Good—I know a couple of great restaurants by your hotel. Any dietary restrictions? Vegan? Gluten-free?”
“Food I can eat with one hand.”
“Right. I know the perfect place. How does seven o’clock sound?”
“Great.”
“See you then.”
Bernadette ended the call and caught a glance of herself in the rear-view mirror. She looked—not exactly happy, but like she was finally getting her feet back under herself.
When the SUV pulled into the facility’s parking lot, Maura killed the engine.
“Want us to come in with you?” Maura asked.
“I think I’ll be okay.”
“Great. Let us know if it’ll be longer than an hour. We’ll need to get to the airport.” Maura looked at Kep. “So what do you think? Ready to do this again when we have another poisoning murder for you?”
“Yes.”
“Any concerns? Travel arrangements? Personnel?”
Kep turned his head and looked at Bernadette, his gaze serious but soft. “No concerns.”
Bernadette gave him a slight nod.
Kep turned back to stare through the windshield.
Bernadette opened her door and, eyes inquisitive, tilted her head at Maura, who rubbed the back of her neck.
After checking in at the front, Bernadette was led into a small room with eggshell walls and a metal table with four straight-backed metal chairs. The furniture was cold to the touch. She sat, sending a jolt of discomfort through her arm, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been the day before. Of course, the drugs probably helped with that.
She’d had a dream the night before of getting on a plane—a commercial airline, not a private jet—and all the passengers attacked her with knives and crowbars. She’d awakened in a cold sweat.
Now she sat on the frigid metal chair and waited for her attacker to come greet her.
After what seemed like an hour, the door opened. Annika Nakrivo, in handcuffs and ankle cuffs attached to each other, appeared. A guard let her through, seating her opposite Bernadette, then stood next to the door.
Annika glared at the guard, then turned to Bernadette, then back at the guard. “Can we talk in private?”
“Without the guard? No. You tried to run me over with a stolen van. You killed four people, including one of my co-workers. You attacked me with a knife.”
Annika looked at the guard, then back at Bernadette. “I can’t tell you what I need to tell you with a guard here.”
Bernadette could feel the pain medication begin to wane as her shoulder began to throb. “The guard stays.”
Annika shook her head. “I’m sorry. I cannot tell you with anyone else in the room. I’ll go back to my cell.”
Bernadette had not come all this way, doped up on painkillers, to have Annika go back to her cell. She looked at the cuffs and the chain hooked to the table.
“Wait,” Bernadette said. “How long do you need?”
“Five minutes.”
Bernadette looked at the guard. “Can you give us five minutes?”
The guard nodded. “Five minutes.” She turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.
“Okay,” Bernadette said, “you got me alone. You going to shiv me? Because with the amount of painkillers running though my sys—"
“I’m sorry about everything,” Annika blurted.
Bernadette looked at her, then burst out laughing—and stopped when the pain radiated down her arm. “Ugh,” she said, “I don’t believe you. I think you’re only sorry you were caught.”
“You have no idea what they made me do.”
“I think I have some idea,” Bernadette said. “We’ve been doing some research on your background.”
Annika cast her eyes down.
“They flew you to Cleveland and made you get plastic surgery to look like Mariska Sikmo. They sent you to Milwaukee to kill thousands of lampreys so rich people could get even richer. They had you get two activists who hate each other to buy a hundred pounds of TFM. Then they had you steal it. They told you to kill the lampreys and anyone who got in your way.” She leaned forward, taking care not to tax her shoulder. “Including Curtis.” She leaned back in the hard metal chair. “We want to know who ‘they’ are. Who put you up to this?”
Annika swallowed hard, then looked up at Bernadette, eyes wet. “They have my sister,” she whispered.
Bernadette’s eyes went wide. “What?”
“You have to help her,” Annika murmured. “It’s too late for me, but I won’t talk. Not until my sister is safe.”
Annika stood up and shuffled over to the door, then banged on it awkwardly with both hands. The guard opened the door. “We’re finished.”
The guard stuck her head in. “You need anything?”
Yes! I need to know who her sister is! I need to know where she’s being held! I need to know who ‘they’ are!
Bernadette managed to smile. “No. Thank you for your time.”
The door closed behind them.
Bernadette ran her hands through her hair and exhaled slowly. The seconds ticked by.
She slammed her fist on the table, then winced at the pain shooting up her shoulder.
She got up and left the room.
Cast of Characters
The Core Team
Dr. Kep Woodhead: A forensic toxicologist in his early fifties, Dr. Woodhead is both an expert in poisons and a “super smeller”—he can detect and specify scents far beyond the olfactory range of most humans. His brusque manner rubs many people the wrong way, including…
Bernadette Becker: A recently demoted case analyst who has been assigned to manage Dr. Woodhead on relevant cases. Becker is Woodhead’s sixth “handler” in the last twenty-four months. Freshly separated from her husband of nearly fifteen years, Becker is trying to get back on her feet both personally and professionally.
Lieutenant Maura Stevenson: Becker’s immediate supervisor runs the CSAB Homicide Liaison Unit and joins Woodhead and Becker on important cases, greasing the wheels with local law enforcement agencies, cutting through red tape, and getting needed resources.
Curtis Janek: A young, enterprising tech analyst and researcher for the CSAB unit. Janek is a computer whiz and wants to climb the ladder at the bureau.
The Case
Kymer Thompson: Found dead in a reconstructed fifteenth-century chapel on the Kilbourn Tech campus. Grad student working on a cancer research project.
Detective Kerrigan Dunn: The Milwaukee police detective assigned to the case, now the liaison to CSAB.
Officer Lamar Chesapeake: A Milwaukee police officer.
Officer Lance Schroeter: A Milwaukee police officer and Chesapeake’s partner.
Carlos Costa: The head of security at the Timmerman Executive Airport.
Lesley Gill: A tech with the Milwaukee police department who helps the CSAB team.
Jude Lightman: Thompson’s advisor and research leader. His project uses a local species of silver lamprey to harvest two types of enzymes which react with ibogaine and can destroy cancer cells. Brilliant and handsome, and he knows it.