'Do we have a choice?' Sanker sounded as irritated as he felt. He wanted to be proactive, not reactive, and he couldn't find a way to get complete control and drive events. It was an unaccustomed subservience to history in the making.
Sanker clicked the receiver in Rossitter's ear without saying good-bye in order to signal his dissatisfaction.
Rossitter was typically good under pressure. Maybe he would come up with something.
Twenty minutes later, Frick sat in a small grove of Douglas fir and watched the undersheriff, Roy Knauff, through the branches. In preparing for the weekend, Frick had made a special point of learning the undersheriff's likely whereabouts. The undersheriff, Frick discovered, was tight with his cousin, an electrical contractor on the island. Sure enough, Frick's hired man had followed the undersheriff to his cousin's house and he was here kicking back just as his man had promised.
Meanwhile, Frick had the department working on a new front. They were close to obtaining a search warrant for a safe-deposit box that Ben Anderson rented. Anderson's secretary, Sarah James, had told Frick about the box when she called looking for Anderson. He doubted the search would be fruitful. She had given up the story a little too easily.
There was no cell signal at the undersheriff's cousin's place, here on Wescott Bay. The pager would work, but the undersheriff's was broken. Frick had seen to that. The dispatcher had left a message on the undersheriff's cell and sent someone around to the undersheriff's place. Frick knew it was only a question of time before the undersheriff called in or the dispatcher found him, so he had to work fast. He had known all along that if the papers weren't where they were supposed to be, things would unravel and he would need to handle the undersheriff. When the time was right, Frick wanted to be the one to tell him about Crew's murder.
Through the window of the house, a pretty redhead was laughing and the undersheriff was giving her his undivided attention. Had to be the cousin's wife. In Frick's world no man ever paid that much attention to his own wife. While he watched them, he used an encoded police radio to call Khan, who'd arrived shortly before Frick left. Khan had set up base in the Sanker conference room.
'Khan.'
'What have our eggheads found?' Frick asked.
'I'm no scientist. Your guy McStott calls it a lot of basic genetic research. Probably not what you're after. Then again, it stands to reason, though, that a man can't completely cover his tracks. We have mounds of paper and printouts from his office and lab, and McStott says he's piecing it together. But nothing exactly on point.'
'We have this weekend,' Frick said. 'That's it. By Monday this place will be raining state cops and feds. Chase is not going to sit still. He must know people.'
'We're trying to pull it together.'
Frick clicked off. Khan and McStott didn't seem to get it. Mounds of irrelevant paperwork was Ben Anderson covering his tracks to perfection.
Frick would need to improvise. He called the Strope man he had at Ben Anderson's place.
'Seen anything?'
'I was about to call you. Someone just got here. I saw a faint light go on inside the house. Earlier I saw movement outside.'
'Who is it?'
'They must've come on foot-sneaking. It's got to be them.'
'If they try to leave, stop 'em any way you can. I don't care if you shoot Robert Chase, but don't kill Haley Walther.'
'I'm not looking to kill anybody.'
'Do your damn job. They're dangerous fugitives, for God's sake.'
Frick dialed the undersheriff's cousin, on a satellite phone watching through the window as the redhead started at the sound of the house phone.
'May I speak with the undersheriff, please.'
He could see the man take the phone.
'Hello?'
'We have a situation,' Frick began. He told him his version of the whole story.
'The guy who used to be in the wheelchair shot Crew?'
'Yeah. But you know he's not in a wheelchair now. The wheelchair was a fraud all along. I don't think he was ever hurt at all.'
'No lie?'
Frick patiently outlined the events of the afternoon in more detail, with some important omissions and additions.
'We think they're looking for Ben Anderson's research papers,' Frick concluded.
'Why would they want those?' the undersheriff asked.
'Haley Walther has a history of stealing research. Anderson's papers are apparently valuable.'
'You're at the facility?'
'Just heading out to Anderson's house now.'
'I'll meet you there. Haley Walther's no violent criminal.' The undersheriff waited for a response. 'You understand that, don't you?'
'Why don't you let me make sure the place is clear. Meet me at three twenty-five.'
Frick knew the undersheriff would be reluctant to see Haley as a violent criminal. The undersheriff was a good man-short, well-built, and strong. Frick supposed it was a shame that he'd have to die. He watched as the man slid into his leather coat. Then the undersheriff shook the host's hand and kissed the redhead quickly on the cheek. It was happening fast, but it seemed slow to Frick. Probably because it was the last few minutes the man would have on this earth.
Better thee than me.
CHAPTER 11
Sam and Haley entered Ben's house through the side garage door. They emerged from the garage into a hallway that led into the kitchen and a family room area. To the left another hallway accessed a library and beyond that a living room. Off the grand entry to the living room was a short hall to the master bedroom. Haley went into the library first.
She selected a set of tall mahogany bookshelves and began pulling down albums.
'Look for anything that says 'Snake Pit' or 'Alvin' on it,' Haley said.
In moments she had an Alvin photo album that featured the deep-diving submersible.
She began flipping through it and Sam did the same with an adjacent album. They found one undersea shot after another.
'We've got ten or fifteen minutes at best,' said Sam.
'I'm surprised Frick's people aren't here. If it weren't Thanksgiving weekend, deputies would be shouting through a megaphone at us.'
'Yup.'
Sam didn't tell her that the one reason Frick might not do any shouting with a bullhorn is if he wanted to kill one or both of them.
Haley reached the end of the album and looked up. 'This will take forever. We can't do this. His library's only the beginning; there are more bookshelves downstairs. Which one do we choose? Could he have narrowed the field for us and we're just missing it?'
'The bathroom,' Sam said.
'What? Why?'
'Because he's talking about the ocean cleansing itself, and there might be a sort of crude parallel to people. And because it's unlikely.'
Haley looked willing if unconvinced. 'Okay, there are four. Let's try the master bath.'
