toward her, and while at first it had caused some consternation, the two of them had created a zone in which they could work together. Randy was nothing but a pure gentleman at all times, never suggesting anything but a business relationship, and yet there had remained something of the tension of their first meeting in the air between them ever since.
“What is it, Meredyth? How can I help?”
“We need you to track down the name of Mootry's personal physician, his legal and financial advisor, and his priest.”
“He had a priest?”
“Well, no… I mean, we don't know, but we want to talk to anyone giving him close advice in these three areas.”
“I see.”
“Can you do it?” she asked, knowing that he could, and knowing that he loved a challenge, and knowing that he loved to have her ask, so he could bedazzle her with his computerese.
“Sure… should be a snap. I have enough records on the man to tap into that, sure. It may be I get an agency or a church instead of a name, though.”
“See what you can find out, Randy, and thanks.”
“Sure, no sweat, Dr. Sanger. You sure now that every-thing's okay with you?”
“Just fine. We'll be back in Houston-”
Stonecoat cautioned her with a finger to his lips.
“-soon as we can. Be in touch then.”
“You got it. Doctor.”
She hung up, feeling badly that she'd suspected Randy in the least. She wondered if Stonecoat trusted anyone, including her.
TWENTY — SIX
When they arrived at Houston Intercontinental Airport, no one was there to greet them, as no one knew they were arriving so early. They'd gotten some sleep on the plane, but not much, and both Lucas and Meredyth wanted to go home, shower and rest, both knowing that Captain Phillip Lawrence would be wanting a briefing on South Dakota by ten A.M. at the latest.
They took a cab from the airport, dropping her first, their good-bye subdued and matter-of-fact. “See you at the precinct house,” he had said.
“Will do,” she replied.
“And neither of us talks to Lawrence alone.”
She nodded her assent. “And be careful. If they mugged you once, they can do it again.”
“They won't get another chance.”
He sped off in the cab, leaving her to watch after him, wondering if she'd been wrong to drag him into all this cloak-and-dagger business with her. She admired his grit, his determination, and since firing off his weapon, he seemed somehow different, more soldierly, more confident, if that was possible.
She went in and upstairs to her apartment, kicked off her shoes, and began tearing away clothing, anxious for a shower and a few winks before having to face Lawrence.
After she stepped from the shower, Meredyth noticed that the message light on her answering machine was blinking. She pressed the button. There were two messages from Conrad, anxious about her whereabouts, making her wonder if it was to be like this, or worse, after their marriage. The third message was from a carpet-cleaning company that wanted to do her carpets in the worst way, and the fourth was from Randy Oglesby, who claimed to have hit pay dirt with the priest, the lawyer and the doctor, giving her a list of names. She grabbed a pen and jotted the names down on a list.
Priest-Father Franklin Aguilar
Doctor-Sterling Washburn
Lawyer-Pierce Dalton
She had not heard of any of these men, so why did the list seem so sinister? How had Randy so quickly and efficiently supplied the names? Could cyberinvestigating be that easy? Or was Stonecoat right about Randy? It simply didn't seem possible, but she was beginning to see bogeymen everywhere.
She immediately dialed Lucas's number, wondering if her line might not be bugged here in her apartment. She hung up, but then she rationalized that if her line was bugged, the so-called cult of assassins who had tried the night before to take her life, along with Lucas's, had already heard Randy's message to her. She dialed again and got Lucas on the second ring. “What is it?” he asked nastily. “It's me, Meredyth. I've got the list of names.”
“Names?”
“The ones we discussed, remember?”
“Oh, oh, yeah, sure. It'll keep till ten, won't it?”
“Yeah, just thought you'd like to know Randy worked all night on our behalf to get this information.”
“Sounds like he's motivated.”
“He'd do anything for me.”
“That doesn't surprise me.”
She sensed he was about to hang up. “Wait. In case something should, you know, happen to me? The priest's name is Father Frank Aguilar; the lawyer's name is Pierce Dalton-”
“Pierce? That's appropriate.”
“And the doctor's name is Sterling Washburn. Are you writing this down?”
“Speak with you later.” He sounded exhausted, she thought. Perhaps he'd get some sleep tonight, despite his chronic insomnia.
“We're in this together, now. Lucas, I don't want to learn of your going to see any of these people without me. You promise?” He assured her and Meredyth hung up, wondering if she could trust him to keep his word on this.
At ten in the morning they got their meeting with Captain Phil Lawrence, but neither of them was anxious to face the man at this point. They were both filled with suspicions, none of which could be proven. Still, the report they gave opened the captain's eyes, wide, then wider still, as he listened to the events they relayed. They told him about the attack at the lodge, but they'd decided to keep the FBI connection to themselves at this point. It was a decision they had made before going into Lawrence's office.
Lawrence immediately wanted to know, “Why didn't you stay downtown at the damned Wagon Wheel where we had the two of you booked in the first place?”
“The Prairie Wind was closer to the crime scene,” lied Lucas. “And as it turned out, there was a great deal to do at the scene. It grew late.”
“That about sums it up. Captain,” she agreed. “Now we know for certain we're dealing with a fanatical fringe group, but what motive have they?” Lawrence replied. “We've kicked around a few theories,” suggested Lucas. “One's pretty far-fetched, having to do with… vampires.”
“Vampires?” Lawrence looked genuinely amazed. “What about vampires?”
“More to the point, our killers may be playing out some sick thought they're saving the world from vampires, that they have some sort of genetic link with vampire stalkers of the past,” Meredyth suggested in her best psychological mumbo-jumbo voice, but it struck Lucas as quite plausible the way she orchestrated the words.
“That is far-out, Gary Larson far-out,” Lawrence replied. “So, what is your next move, Dr. Sanger, Officer Stonecoat?”
“Pardon me, sir?” asked Lucas. “But are you saying we're still on the case?”
“Well, what with Pardee and Amelford dragging their butts… I guess I was a bit hasty, premature in my judgments earlier, Dr. Sanger,” he lamely apologized as she watched him squirm on the hook.
“Well, sir,” countered Lucas, letting him off the proverbial hook, “we're honestly at a dead end ourselves. We're intending to return to the Cold Room, go back over the files, see what shakes out there, if anything.”
“You may's well know that Pardee and Amelford have lodged a formal complaint with the commissioner as to
