his arm, Rusk swung the hammer as though chopping firewood. This spoiled bitch had threatened everything he'd worked five years to build…but had he backed off and called for help? No. He'd stepped up to the fucking plate. Never again would Eldon Tarver see him as a gutless middleman afraid to get his hands dirty. Rusk stopped swinging and stood over the bloody corpse, breathing the way he had on that first day at base camp on Everest. Never had he felt such elemental power. He only wished his father were here to see it.
Will was waiting for Alex when she arrived at the park behind the Governor's Mansion. She got out of the Corolla, locked it, and climbed into the passenger seat of his Explorer.
'What's the deal with this clinic?' Will asked.
'It's owned by a doctor from UMC. Eldon Tarver. I got a funny feeling when I talked to him.'
Will's eyes crinkled with interest. 'What kind of feeling?'
'You know what kind.'
'I gotcha.'
'Tarver's wife died of cancer years ago, and he inherited a lot of money. He opened up this place in memory of her. He treats a lot of poor people for AIDS, herpes, stuff like that. But I think he might be doing more. He's a cancer specialist, and this would be a perfect front for him. He could give those patients any kind of virus or toxin he wanted to, then monitor them when they come back for free medicine.'
'A freako, then.'
'Maybe.' Alex bit her bottom lip. 'Or maybe he's just a Good Samaritan.'
Will barked a mocking laugh. 'Haven't met too many of those in my time. They may look like angels, but they're usually getting something out of what they're doing, some way or other.'
'We're about to find out, I hope. Let's go.'
Will put the Explorer in gear and started driving. 'I wish I knew what kind of car he drives.'
'Kaiser should be able to tell us soon. I already gave him Tarver's name.'
'I'll do my own check, just in case. Nothing against the FBI, you understand. Spell the name.'
Alex did.
'Got it,' said Will, jotting in the small notebook he carried at all times. 'Hey, where's Dr. Shepard?'
'The Cabot Lodge.'
Kilmer's eyes asked a silent question.
She laid her hand on the detective's arm. 'He's sick, Will. Bad. But it's not your fault, okay?'
'Bullshit, it ain't. Goddamn it. Sleeping at my post. They used to shoot us for that.'
'You were drugged. All three of you. Now, let go of that and get your mind on the game. I need you.'
Will rubbed his wrinkled face between both hands and sighed. 'You taking your piece in with you?'
She shook her head. 'Not this time.'
'Shit.' Will reached into the glove box and brought out a short-barreled.357 magnum. 'I'm gonna be close, then.'
'That's where I like you, partner.'
The renovated Pullo's restaurant possessed little of its former personality. The only things Alex recognized were some curiously shaped light fixtures hanging above where the old buffet used to stand. Apart from these, the building had been gutted.
Just inside the door sat a receptionist, her coffee-colored elbows resting on a scarred metal desk. To her right was a large group of chairs, several of which were occupied by emaciated men who smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, and body odor. A narrow corridor led deeper into the building, but Alex learned nothing by glancing down it. An opaque window looked onto the waiting room from the back wall, and Alex got the feeling it was used to covertly study the patients.
'Can I help you?' asked the receptionist.
'I hope so. I was just speaking to Dr. Tarver over at the medical center. He asked me something I didn't know the answer to, but now I've found out for him. I wanted to tell him in person.'
The receptionist eyed Alex up and down, trying to read her. Well-dressed Caucasian women were clearly not usual visitors at the clinic.
'What's your name?' she asked.
'Alexandra Morse.'
'Well, the doctor's not here. But let me go back and talk to somebody. He may be coming in soon.'
'Thank you. I'd appreciate it.'
The woman got up as though she were doing Alex a huge favor and walked slowly down the corridor. Alex stepped closer to the desk and read everything she could off its surface. There were bills addressed to the Tarver Free Clinic, and one to Eldon Tarver, MD. A half-hidden magazine lay open under the appointment book:
'He ain't coming in today,' she said, giving Alex a territorial glare.
'Not at all?'
'That's what I said.'
The receptionist sat down and opened her magazine, as though she had done her duty and now intended to forget that Alex existed. Alex started to ask her to take a message, then thought better of it. Turning to leave, Alex almost bumped into a man wearing what had to be a $2,000 business suit.
'Excuse me,' she said. 'I'm sorry.'
The newcomer had close-cropped gray hair and steel-blue eyes. His face triggered something in her mind. But what? He reminded her of some senior Bureau agents who had entered the FBI after leaving the army CID or the navy JAG corps.
'Not a problem, miss,' the man said with the slightest of smiles.
He stepped wide for her to pass, and Alex did, despite a desire to ask what the hell the guy was doing in a dump like this. Maybe he thought it was still a restaurant. In its heyday, Pullo's had drawn some very rich men for breakfast.
Outside, Alex looked back and saw the stranger in conversation with the receptionist. He seemed to be having about as much luck as she had. Scanning the street for Will, she walked past a dark sedan that had parked in front of the clinic, then strode down to Will's Explorer and got into the passenger seat. A moment later, Will climbed behind the wheel.
'Any luck?' he asked.
'Nothing good.'
He nodded. 'You see that guy who just went in?'
'Yeah. You know him?'
'I know his type. Soldier.'
'That's the vibe I got, too.'
'Good girl. And check this out.' Will pulled into the street and let the Explorer idle forward. With the slightest inclination of his head, he prompted Alex to look to her left. When she did, she saw a young man wearing an army uniform sitting behind the wheel of the sedan she had just walked past. She registered sergeant's stripes on his shoulder, and then they were past him.
'He drove the sharp-dressed guy here?'
'Yep. Did you see the door?'
'The car door?'
'U.S. GOVERNMENT. Printed in black.'
'What the hell?'
Will drove down the block and turned toward the spot where Alex's Corolla was parked. 'They sure as shit ain't the IRS.'
'Who are they?'
