'Because you wanted to see something creepy. The shadow woman was on both your minds.'
'My mind doesn't fool itself that easily,' Fedderman said.
'How would it know?' Pearl asked.
She walked over and got a cup of coffee. Fedderman watched her. Quinn watched them both, like a man watching inclement weather developing.
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside.
Everyone looked at her.
She looked as put together as Pearl, but that was about all they had in common. This woman was tall and slender-a fashion model's build. She was wearing a dark gray blazer and lighter gray slacks. Shoes with silver buckles and flat heels. On top of the model's body was a model's face, strong-featured with prominent cheekbones, full lips, and intriguing eyes that appeared blue at a glance but were actually brown.
She smiled, but before she could introduce herself, Quinn said, 'This is Adelaide Price.' He nodded toward Pearl and Fedderman as he introduced them, and then himself. 'Ms. Price is going to join us,' he said.
Pearl didn't like surprises from Quinn. They usually meant impending trouble. 'What do you mean, 'join us'? Are we all going out for a doughnut fest?'
'It's Addie,' the woman said. 'I'm glad to meet you all, and doughnuts sound all right to me.'
Pearl didn't like the husky, sexy voice, like a cat seducing mice. She also didn't like the way the two mice were staring at the woman.
'I'm assuming Commissioner Renz contacted you about me,' Addie said.
Quinn seemed to drift up out of his trance. 'He did, Addie, but I haven't had a chance to fill in Pearl and Feds-Fedderman.'
'Just Feds is okay,' Fedderman said to Addie. Got him a smile.
Addie Price sat in the client's chair while Quinn explained to Pearl and Fedderman that she was now part of the investigation as a crime psychologist and profiler. She'd had plenty of experience with the Detroit police and as a freelancer and media personality. She'd written a book. Without being too obvious, he made it clear to them that this was Renz's idea and they had no choice.
'I've already met Vitali and Mishkin,' Addie Price said, when Quinn was finished.
'Great,' Quinn said. 'I've got a desk coming for you, Addie, but it won't get here till this afternoon. Pearl and I will be in the field this morning, and Feds can bring you up to date on the case.'
'I'm already somewhat up to date on it,' Addie said. 'I have a special interest.'
'Renz explained that,' Quinn said.
Pearl waited for him to say more, but he didn't. Neither did Addie Price.
'We're becoming quite a task force,' Pearl said in a neutral tone.
A profiler assigned by Renz. One who'd be taking an active part in the investigation. Pearl didn't like this a bit.
'Whatever it takes,' Fedderman said. He was not going to be on Pearl's side when it came to Addie Price. 'We can use my desk,' he said to Addie, 'and we need to get you a coffee mug with your initials on it.'
'Gold ones,' Pearl said.
Addie gave her a look. It was easy to read: We're sisters in a man's world. For God's sake, give me a chance.
'What's with this book?' Fedderman asked.
Addie made a pass at looking modest. 'Oh, it's one of those dry academic things. Crime Profilng in the Context of Modern Society. It's a padded version of my doctoral dissertation.'
Pearl thought, Jesus H. Christ!
'Pearl and I will be down in Chelsea,' Quinn said, 'seeing if we can find somebody who knew Maureen Sanders or saw or heard anything unusual. Maybe some of the other street people around there knew her.'
He got his suit coat from where it hung on a wire hanger and draped it over his arm. A few long steps and he was at the door.
'Good to meet you, Addie,' he said. He held the door open for Pearl.
'Welcome aboard, Addie,' Pearl said, with a wide, warm smile. 'We can use all the help we can get.'
Thinking, Spy.
They took Quinn's Lincoln for the drive downtown. He got behind the steering wheel as Pearl opened the door on her side and slid in to sit next to him. She fastened her seat belt and stared straight ahead.
Quinn didn't drive away immediately. They sat with the engine running almost silently, the car's air- conditioning fighting the good fight against the heat. Pearl didn't feel like a caution from Quinn, but she could sense one coming.
'She seems nice,' she said, not looking over at Quinn. Perhaps she could divert this conversation with a modicum of bullshit.
'This is Renz's idea,' he said. 'He's the unseen hand running the investigation.'
'I didn't notice his name on our stationery. Or Addie Price's.'
'Or Vitali's or Mishkin's,' Quinn said. 'We find ourselves working for the city, Pearl. Not just for our periodically disappearing client.'
'Think there might be a conflict of interest there?'
'Not unless our client's involved in a crime.'
'Hmph,' Pearl said. She finally looked over at Quinn. 'You do realize Addie Price is probably Renz's way of keeping tabs on us. His own personal Mata Hari.'
'Yes, I realize that. I also realize she can be a valuable conduit for feeding whatever information we want to Renz.'
Pearl couldn't help laughing, partly in disgust. 'You are such a devious bastard, Quinn.'
'You probably forget from time to time.' He slipped the shift lever into drive and pulled the big Lincoln away from the curb. 'Something else about Addie Price, Pearl, is she might be damned good at her job.'
'She's good at something,' Pearl said, and settled back in her seat.
Halfway down Broadway to Chelsea, dark clouds blew in, and vast shadows moved against the buildings and across the wide street. Thunder rumbled like distant lions. People on the sidewalks began walking slightly faster and sneaking looks at the sky as if they might be caught at it and punished with a bolt of lightning. Shop owners with sidewalk displays busied themselves lowering awnings or steel shutters to keep merchandise dry. Judging by the spotless windshield, not a drop of rain had fallen, but already several street vendors were hawking umbrellas. The kind that flipped inside-out with the first brisk wind and were useless ever after.
'Storm coming,' Quinn said.
'You think?' Pearl said, each word like a splash of acid.
'Jesus, Pearl, lighten up.'
Pearl said, 'You're looking at the light me.'
37
Holifield, Ohio, 1994
Hardware Hill had started out the cold winter morning with a frozen crust on the surface of five inches of snow. By the time Jerry Grantland got there with the American Flyer sled he'd almost outgrown, the kids who'd gotten a snow day off school and used it for winter hijinks had made an icy mess of things.
The hill was city property, a wide thirty-degree plane leading to a shallow lake. But for the prospect of an icy dunking at the bottom, it might have been designed for sledding.
During the winter the city stacked bales of straw along the lake's edge to keep overenthusiastic sled riders from zooming onto the frozen surface or into the frigid water. Often there were bonfires at the edges of the hill to warm those who stayed long or managed to find their way beyond the straw-bale barrier. At the top of the hill was the back of Munger's Hardware Emporium, where many of the wooden sleds, plastic saucers, even skis were sold.
