didn’t really believe he’d find anything. It would take, he figured, an electronic sweep to locate whatever bug they’d planted, if indeed they’d hidden one there. At this point, there was nothing he could be certain of.
They drank the coffee, and they talked awkwardly of small, inconsequential things. When Cork left, the two women walked with him to his Bronco and bid him good-bye and Godspeed. In his rearview mirror as he headed away, he saw Liz Burns put her arm around Becca Bodine, and they turned and walked together toward her house. A moment later they were gone from his sight.
TWENTY-FOUR
It was late afternoon when he returned to Aurora. He stopped at Sam’s Place and checked in with Judy Madsen. She told him it had been a good day. Things had slowed a bit and they were doing fine. If he needed her to, she could handle closing. Cork kissed her cheek and told her she was the best, and she told him back that a kiss was fine but making her a partner was better. He said they’d talk. Soon.
In the back of Sam’s Place, he unlocked the door to the cellar and went down. From an upright locker near the boiler, he took a handheld RF detector-a bug sweeper-and a phone tap detector. This was equipment he’d purchased nearly a year ago during an investigation he’d done for the Chippewa Grand Casino.
He swept that part of Sam’s Place he used for his office and found no evidence of a bug. He checked the phone line. Nothing there. He told Judy he was heading off, and when he thanked her again, she said, “How soon is soon?”
At home, Cork found a note on the kitchen counter from Stephen saying that he was having dinner at Gordy Hudacek’s house, okay? He’d be home by nine. Cork called Stephen’s cell and told his son that he was back from Duluth, and, yes, he’d expect to see him at nine. He used the next hour to sweep his house for bugs and to check his own phone line. As nearly as he could tell, everything was clean. There were four possibilities: The people behind all this didn’t particularly care about bugging him; they hadn’t had time to bug him; the bugs they’d used were too sophisticated for his sweep equipment to detect; or he was mistaken in all his assumptions about what was going on. Finally he called Hugh Parmer and arranged to meet him at the bar in the Four Seasons.
Parmer was waiting when Cork arrived, and the two men took a table near one of the windows that overlooked Iron Lake. Cork ordered a Leinenkugel’s Dark. Parmer ordered a Cutty Sark and water.
“I need a favor from you, Hugh,” Cork said. “A pretty big one.”
“Name it.”
“I’d like you to fly Stephen to Evanston, Illinois, in the morning.”
“I can do that. Care to tell me why?”
“His aunt and uncle live there. I want him to stay with them for a while. I want him out of harm’s way.”
“Things are that bad?”
“They might be. I don’t want to take a chance.”
“Mind if I ask what’s going on?”
Cork explained what he’d seen on the tape the night before, after Parmer had left. He told him about his day in Duluth and his growing concern that there was something solid in the conspiracy theory the two women had proposed to him. He said, “These people probably won’t hesitate to kill again to cover whatever it is they’ve been up to.”
“Which is what?”
Their drinks came, and Cork waited until the waitress was gone to go on. “I don’t know yet, Hugh. But I’m going to do a lot of digging, see if I can uncover a nest of scorpions. If that happens, I don’t want Stephen anywhere near me.”
“I understand. I think it wouldn’t be a bad idea to have some backup with you, though.”
“You’re probably right, but I work alone.”
“After I drop Stephen off, it might be a good idea for me to fly to that regional airport in Rice Lake and meet you there.”
“This isn’t your business, Hugh.”
“It is if I make it my business.”
“This is a different kind of business from land development.”
“I hunt deer and elk in the White Mountains of Arizona. I’ve hunted caribou in Alaska and gazelle in Africa. I know my way around firearms, Cork. And I wasn’t always a land developer. I started as a ranch hand, an honest- to-God cowboy. You got any idea what kind of mettle that takes?”
“I’m not questioning your mettle, Hugh.”
“And don’t give me a lot of crap about feeling responsible if I’m hurt. A man chooses, and the consequences are on his own shoulders and no one else’s. And just think about what kind of backup I’d provide, Cork. Hell, there’s nothing in this world I can’t afford to buy if we need it.”
“Then why not buy me backup trained in this kind of thing?”
Parmer turned his head and looked away, an odd move for a man who’d have no trouble spitting in the devil’s eye. He nodded, as if he was having a discussion with himself. Finally he looked at Cork and said, “Sometimes when a man gets too good at something, like buying land and putting things on it and making a lot of money in the process, what he does begins to lose its value to him. It’s too easy. That’s one of the reasons I took such an interest in the development here in Aurora. You were an obstacle. You stood in my way. That happens very seldom, and the old excitement kicked in. What you and I planned here for Iron Lake is something I’m proud of, really proud, because it could have been easy and ruinous, but your damn stubbornness, your love for this place, shaped the vision into something that will add to the beauty, not destroy it. At least, that’s how I think of the project. My life is too simple these days, Cork, too easy. And for a long time, it’s been all about me. I’d like to help because it feels important and because I care about the outcome. And also because it makes me feel alive. If you want me to hire backup instead, I will. I have excellent security people. But I feel up to the job and I’d like to do it.”
The man was lean and hard and earnest. He’d come from common stock and risen out of the West Texas dust. He was clear-eyed about the contradictions of human nature and probably understood that inside the best of people there was always a war going on between the light and the dark, and that in anyone the tide of battle could shift at any moment, which meant trust was a dangerous thing. Parmer, Cork figured, would know when to trust. It didn’t hurt at all that he could buy half of Minnesota if it came to that.
“All right,” Cork said. “But you do as I say. Will that be a problem?”
Parmer grinned. “Not at all.”
Back at home, Cork called Rose. She answered in a voice pinched with concern.
“Is everything all right?” he asked.
“Actually, no. Mal is in the hospital.”
“Is it serious?”
“He’s had a mild heart attack.”
“Oh my God.”
“He’s all right,” she said emphatically. “In church this morning, he complained of being short of breath and then of discomfort in his chest. He didn’t want to make a fuss, but I insisted we go to the emergency room. They diagnosed him there. He’s fine, really. They’re keeping him overnight for observation, but he should be all right to come home tomorrow.”
“Are you doing okay, Rose?”
“The worst was over before we really even knew what was going on. So, yes, I’m okay. We’ll need to take a look at all the contributing circumstances and make some changes in our lives, I think. Mal has been driving himself lately. So the first order of business will be for him to slow down. I’m going to sit on him if I have to.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No, Cork. And please don’t think about coming down here to help. Mal wouldn’t hear of it, and you’ve got plenty to keep you busy up there.”
“You’ll keep us posted?”
“Of course. I would have called, but I had my hands full.” She paused. “But you called me. Was there something you wanted to talk about?”
