The minute he heard about the ring and the note, I had no problem convincing Jimbo to call Deacon. While we were waiting, the roar of bikes thundered from down the road and six burly men came riding into the driveway, all in jeans, leather, and dark shades. My heart flipped for a moment, and I had the sudden urge to slip into a halter top and a pair of Daisy Dukes. Oh, yeah. That was me, all right.
The guys waved at me as they fanned out around the yard. By now, I’d been around the enclave enough to know a few of their names, and they’d dubbed me the “weird tea chick.” I wasn’t suburban enough to rate the word “lady,” for which I was grateful—the word conjuring up images of soccer moms, soft pop radio stations, and minivans. I was proud to be Kip and Randa’s mother, but I preferred grunge and my SUV.
Terry-T strode up to Jimbo. They clasped hands. “What’s shakin’, my man?” he said. Terry-T had long wheat-colored hair and facial hair that lingered on the verge of Beards Gone Wild.
Jimbo was about to fill them in when Deacon and Greg pulled into the yard. The boys stared, not unfriendly but solemn and silent. I sidled up to Jimbo’s side and we went over our respective stories. Normally, I didn’t bother telling the cops—other than Murray—when I had a psychic hunch because I knew they couldn’t act on it, but this time it made sense. Common, logical sense. I had the feeling they’d actually consider the idea that Jimbo might have been the target, given everything else that had been happening.
By the time we finished, Deacon was shaking his head. “I don’t mind telling you, I’m worried. We haven’t had someone on the force with a creeper in a long time,” he said.
“Creeper?”
“That’s what the Chief calls it. Occasionally you get a cop who attracts a wacko. A lot of times, it’s somebody they’ve busted; once in a while it’s your everyday, average neurotic who fancies the officer to be their own personal savior. Hero worship bordering on fantasy. But whoever this is, this dude’s escalated the pattern. He’s skipped a few steps.”
“Like what?” I asked. If he was upping the ante, there had to be a reason.
“He’s invaded her house and she still doesn’t know who he is.” Deacon glanced at me. “You might just be right about the shooter. We’ll look into it.”
They inspected the chopper and noted down the damage, then checked out the rest of Jimbo’s vehicles, but could find nothing else out of place. As they headed to their patrol car, they left Jimbo with a caveat to be careful and make sure to lock up his vehicles in the garage.
“You might want to give them a once-over before you ease out on the road, too,” Greg said. “Just to make sure there’s nothing wrong. I don’t want you paranoid, but if somebody’s been tampering with your bike, next time you use your truck, you might want to look under the hood.”
Jimbo frowned. “Why?”
An image flashed in my mind and I knew I’d picked up on what Greg was thinking. As softly as I could, I said, “Explosives. You don’t want to get in a booby-trapped car. Isn’t that right, Greg?”
Greg’s gaze flickered to me and he nodded. “Yeah. Pretty much.” On that note, they pulled out of the driveway.
I sighed. There was nothing more I could do out here, and I had an appointment with the seamstress who was altering Nanna’s wedding dress. My mother had found it in the attic, and it was a vision in ivory lace and satin. It was too big for me—Nanna had been a stout woman—and I wanted a lower neckline, but Janette Armor, who owned the Bridal Veil, had promised that she would work her magic. I only hoped that I hadn’t gained any weight. I’d been stressing a lot the past few days and eating everything in sight.
I gave Jimbo a hug and he swept me up in his arms. “Thanks, O’Brien. You may have just saved my can. If you’re right, at least now I can be on the alert. And I’ll keep a close eye on Anna, so don’t worry your scrawny little butt over that.”
As I headed toward my Mountaineer, escorted by none other than Terry-T himself, I heard Jimbo briefing the guys on what he wanted them to do while patrolling his property.
Terry-T held my door open for me as I scrambled in. I blinked in surprise. “Why thank you, Terry. Keep an eye on him for me, will you?” I nodded Jimbo’s way.
The big galoot grinned. “Sure thing, sweet cheeks. He’s the Man, all right. So, you’re getting married to the paramedic.”
I nodded. “Yeah, supposed to be, if things ever calm down. Why?”
He hemmed and hawed for a moment, then said, “The boys and I wanted to do something to thank you for catching that S.O.B. who killed Clyde and Scar last year, and for what you did for Traci. We’ve been talking about it for a while now, and we’ve come up with a gift for you. But I don’t want to spoil the surprise. When we heard you were coming up here today, I figured why wait. So, a couple of the boys delivered it to your house. By the time you get home, it should be there.”
I blinked again. A present? For me? From the Klickavail bikers’ enclave? Shades of surreal. “I have no idea what to say. You didn’t have to do anything—I’m just glad I could help out.” I broke into a wide grin. “But I do love presents, so thanks, Terry-T. And tell the boys that, whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it.”
He slapped the side of my door as he shut it for me. “Yeah, we think you will, too. Okay, gonna go help Jimbo here. Can’t have the Man in trouble, you know?” As he sauntered away from my car, I couldn’t help but think about first impressions, and how very wrong they could be. I’d learned a lot from Jimbo and his buddies, and I hoped I never forgot the lesson.
On the drive home, I wondered what on earth a bunch of bikers could have settled on for a wedding gift. As I pulled into the driveway, the answer became abundantly clear. There stood Joe, Randa, and Kip, big goofy grins on their faces. They were gathered around a beauty of a chopper. A Harley with a passenger seat, painted brilliant emerald green. Oh my God, the boys had given us a motorcycle!
I leaped out of the Mountaineer and raced over, laughing. Joe caught my gaze, his eyes twinkling as he pointed to the side of the chopper. Instead of flames, the words CHINTZ ‘N CHINA EXPRESS had been painted in lemon yellow and outlined in black, a perfect contrast against the green. When I could control my laughter, I told them what Terry-T had said.
Joe nodded toward the house. “There’s more.”
“More? That thing is worth a good ten or twenty grand, or would be if it was new.” I knew the boys had refurbished an older bike, which was just fine—a new one would be way too expensive for me to feel comfortable accepting. I also knew that Joe would have a blast with it, and I fully intended to be right there, behind him on the passenger seat.
We trooped up the steps to the porch where I saw two black leather jackets, one in my size, one that would fit Joe. On the back was the enclave’s sigil, and beneath it, the words HONORARY MEMBER.
Grinning like a hyena, I decided that maybe our wedding would go off without a snag after all. And if it didn’t, we could hop aboard the bike and elope.
As I took a shower, Joe sat on the toilet, talking to me. I told him what I’d figured out. “I don’t think you were the target,” I shouted over the running water, as I lathered rose-scented shampoo into a thick foam. I wasn’t about to go to a fitting for my wedding dress with anything but powder-fresh skin and clean hair.
“You know, that makes sense,” he shouted back. “I can’t imagine who would want me dead. Not even Roy.”
Roy. Yeah, my suspicions about Roy had been alleviated by our talk, but I wasn’t ready to tell Joe about my visit. As it was, I had my doubts that Roy would ever really shape up. Oh, he might actually stick by his word and try to be a better father, but until he could take full responsibility for his addictions, he’d always be blaming someone or something else for his problems.
I rinsed my hair and turned off the water, stepping out of the shower as Joe handed me a towel. “Thanks. I’m worried sick, though. Who could be stalking Murray, and why? And if this psycho’s taking potshots at Jimbo, then he’s serious.”
“How do you know it’s a he?” Joe asked.
“What?” The thought that the stalker might be a woman hadn’t occurred to me. “Usually women stalk men, don’t they? If a woman was stalking Jimbo, wouldn’t she have sent presents to him and shot at Murray?”
“I’m just saying, don’t make any broad generalizations until you know for sure. Who knows? Maybe some woman has fallen for Murray and is angry that she’s with a man? It happens.” Joe smacked me soundly on the butt as I padded over to the vanity and peered at myself in the mirror. I turned around, eyeing him, and he raised one eyebrow. “Ms. O’Brien, would you like to retire to the bedroom?”
“I would indeed, however, I’m going to be late for the fitting of my wedding dress so you’ll have to hold that thought for later. We don’t want to aggravate your injury, either, so maybe we’d better hold off for a day.” I returned to the bedroom, searching for the corset and panties I’d be wearing under the dress. You could never be too careful with special-occasion outfits. Always best to wear the foundation garments you were planning to wear with the dress when you went to have it altered. The wrong bra—especially for someone with boobs my size—could make or break a look.
Joe followed me, stretching out on the bed. “My shoulder’s not what I was planning on using,” he grumbled, but gave me a good-natured grin. “Wow, that’s hot,” he added, as I cinched the ivory bustier a little tighter.
I grinned at him as I shook Rose’s gift out of the velvet bag into my hand. Once again, I had the feeling something was off and, as I reached up to fasten the necklace around my throat, I couldn’t go through with it.
“Damn it!” I dropped to the vanity bench and stared at the chain of crystal beads. This was getting ridiculous.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Joe slowly pushed himself to a sitting position. “Everything okay?”
“No,” I said, frustrated. “There’s something weird about this necklace Rose gave me. I love it, but every time I wear it, I get dizzy, and now I’m nervous about putting it on at all. I guess I’ll have to wait until I have more time for scrying. I was going to ask Murray and White Deer to look it over for me, too. I’ve been so preoccupied that I’m finding it hard to focus on the crystals when I try to tune into the energy.”
He frowned. “Just leave it home, then. You don’t really need to wear it today, do you?”
I slowly slid the necklace back into the velvet bag and put it in my jewelry box. “I guess not. I wanted to make sure it worked with the outfit, but I can do that later.”
As I reached for my peach chiffon skirt and a tan tank top, I glanced in the full-length mirror. Even though I was comfortable with my looks, I never thought of myself as particularly sexy or beautiful. But this time, I felt like I was looking in the pages of a lingerie magazine. The corset was embossed, tone-on-tone ivory, with a delicate floral design. The panties matched. Thanks to my yoga, I’d toned up a little and, while I’d never be a size six, I didn’t really care. I looked better than I had in years. And part of it, I knew, was directly thanks to being in love and happy again. Turning away slowly, it occurred to me that, for once, I knew what it was like to feel beautiful. Really beautiful.
After I’d dried my hair and grabbed my purse, I headed down to the dress shop. The title for the bike was in my purse. As much as I appreciated the guys’ goodwill, I was planning on having Murray run a background check on it first to make sure everything was on the up-and-up. The last thing I needed was a hot chopper in my possession.
I turned onto Hawthorn Boulevard five blocks north of the Chintz ‘n China and managed to find a parking spot just around the corner from the Bridal Veil. As I approached the shop, a nagging feeling tapped at the back of my brain. I tried to shake it away; usually that feeling meant trouble, and more trouble was the last thing I needed. But when I rounded the corner and pushed on the door, I knew the universe had once again dropped a speed bump in my path.
The shop was closed. Not just closed, but the window displays had been torn apart. Anxiously, I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered inside. From what I could see, the place looked in total disarray, and the racks of gowns were nowhere to be seen.
Shit! What the hell? I forced myself to remain calm and set my purse on the sidewalk, flipping through my Day-Timer till I found Janette’s home number. I pulled out my cell phone and punched the keys, trying to keep my cool. A loud beep sounded, then a voice announced, “This number has been disconnected. If you think you dialed in error, please hang up and try again.”
Cripes. Maybe I’d punched in the wrong number? It couldn’t hurt to try again. I dialed Janette once more, making sure I hit each key correctly. Again the beep and the voice. Oh, hell. Bloody freakin’ hell. I dialed the Bridal Veil’s number and again, the same message. Now it was time to panic. I dropped my phone back in my purse and pounded on the door.
“My dress is in there!” I shouted. And then I saw Tilda, the shop cat, pacing back and forth in front of the door, meowing. Had Janette abandoned her cat? Anger welled up as I thought of Nanna’s dress being held hostage. It increased with the thought of the little gray ragamuffin being left to fend for herself in a locked building. I grabbed my phone again and dialed Murray. The minute she came on the line, I started shouting.
“Calm down! Calm down!” She cleared her throat and waited for me to shut up. “Em, now start again and tell me what’s going on.”
“Janette’s disappeared, and my wedding dress is still in her shop. And her cat’s in there. I can’t get her at home—both her home number and her shop number have been disconnected. What am I going to do?” I swallowed the rising swell of panic.
Mur let out a sigh of exasperation. “Well, that frosts it. Okay, I’ll be down there in a few minutes and pick you up. We’ll check out her home address, see if she’s there. If she’s not, we’ll decide what to do next. Hold on, and please calm down. We’ll get your dress.”
While waiting, I tapped on the window, watching as Tilda reached up, trying to touch me through the glass. If Janette had just dumped her, locking her in the shop, I hoped to hell they caught the woman and hauled her ass into court for animal abuse. I couldn’t watch an episode of Animal Cops on the Animal Planet station without bursting into tears, and neither could Kip. Randa, either, bless her hard-hearted shell that protected a very vulnerable and gentle nature.
Ten minutes later, Murray pulled up. I’d settled myself on one of the sidewalk benches, staring at the shop as if by focusing my attention, I could make Janette somehow magically appear. Unfortunately, even though I’d seen things resembling miracles, this wasn’t one of those times.
Murray looked through the window, then tried the door. “Come on, let’s go check out her apartment. I found the address. We have to do that before I can make the call to go in. If she’s not there and it looks like she’s disappeared, I can always say that we were worried something might have happened to her, so I had to break into the shop. Bonner wouldn’t give me flak for that.”
I climbed in her car—as head of detectives, she drove one of the unmarked vehicles the station owned—and we zoomed off in the direction of Janette’s home. Located on Brookline Drive, the Wilkenshire Arms was probably the most expensive apartment complex in Chiqetaw. Stately, the building stood four stories high and had recently been painted with a cream-colored fresco faux finish. It reminded me of some old building in southern California, with a clock tower rising a level above the roof.
Mur found a parking space near the entrance and we headed inside, where she contacted Doreen Jenks, the manager. I recognized Doreen right away; she was a lovely old woman who frequented my tearoom. When we told her we were worried about Janette, she quickly led us up to the apartment. After knocking several times, she produced a master key and unlocked the door. Murray cautiously entered, motioning for us to stay behind. After a minute, she called for both Doreen and me to join her.
The apartment was a disaster. While nothing appeared to have been damaged as far as walls or counters, there were scattered newspapers and junk all over the place. The furniture was there, but all personal mementos were gone, as were the TV, microwave, and any other small appliances Janette might have owned. No photos, no pictures or paintings on the walls, no knickknacks, no personal items of any kind left behind.
Murray checked the bedroom. “Closet and dresser are both empty. Okay, I’m going to call in an officer to search the apartment. She probably just ditched town, but we’d better make sure.”
Doreen shook her head. “I can’t believe she ran off like this.”
“Was she a good tenant?” Murray asked.
Doreen hesitated, then said, “Not the best. To be honest, Janette was behind on her rent, and I’d given her three weeks to pay in full. I warned her last week that if she didn’t produce the money by the deadline, I’d start eviction proceedings.”
Mur glanced at a calendar that was hanging askew on the wall. “How far in arrears was she?”
Doreen frowned, concentrating. “Well, on April first, she couldn’t make rent, but I wasn’t too worried. People have problems, they come to me and talk it out, and usually they’re caught up in a month or two. I try to be understanding. Janette told me that somebody had stolen her ATM card and managed to wipe out her bank account.”
“It should be easy to find out if she reported a theft.” Murray tapped her notepad with her pen. “My guess is that it never happened.”
“That’s what I think, too, now. But I believed her at first. She’d never given me any reason to doubt her,” Doreen said. “At the beginning of May, she claimed that the bank was slow about replacing her money that had been stolen. She said she’d sent out invoices to her clients and should be able to pay me everything by the first of June. So, even though I was starting to get suspicious, I decided to give her a break. Sometimes a spate of bad luck happens to the best of folks.”
I glanced around. “Looks like she left in a hurry.”
“I’m not surprised,” Doreen said. “When June first came and went, Janette did everything in her power to avoid me. I left a notice on her door.”
“What did it say?” Murray asked.
“That she had until June twenty-first to pay all three months’ back rent or I’d turn her out.” Doreen wrung her hands. “And now, it’s coming up on the twenty-first and she’s obviously skipped town. But I couldn’t just let her walk over me like that. Three months’ rent comes out to twenty-four hundred dollars. I hope that she’s all right, though. I don’t wish her any harm.”
Murray muttered something under her breath. I patted Doreen on the arm. “You did the right thing.” Inside, I was boiling. If Janette had ditched Chiqetaw, then where was my dress?
After Mur called for one of the boys to come assess the apartment, we returned to the car. “You okay?” she asked. “We’ll go check the shop as soon as Sandy gets here. I want to fill him in on everything before we head out.”
Five minutes later, she was doing just that while I waited, white-knuckled, in the car. Before we headed out, Murray phoned the superintendent who owned the building that Janette’s store was in, and she put in a call to Deacon. He was waiting for us as we pulled up in front of the shop and parked, holding a search warrant.
“Got it, boss,” he said, grinning at Murray.
I was out of the car like a light. Murray followed more slowly. We only had to wait for a moment before the building superintendent showed up. He rolled his eyes as Murray explained what was going on.
“Wouldn’t surprise me if she lit out of here,” he said, pulling out a huge ring of keys.
“Why?” Murray asked.
“Because that little girl was two months behind on rent and I told her to either give me my money or be prepared to find another place for her shop. She’s a repeat offender. Two times in the past, she’d been a month late with rent and I warned her one more time and she was out.” He pushed open the door and we slipped inside. Tilda ran over to us, meowing, and the owner caught her up in his arms. “Hey, pumpkin,” he said. “Let’s see if we can find you something to eat.”
While he looked around for cat food, Murray and I walked through the shop. The racks of new gowns were gone, a few left scattered on the floor like they’d been dropped in a rush. They were crushed and dirty. My heart in my throat, I headed into the back room where we’d done the earlier fittings. No sign of Janette anywhere, but there—in pieces on the floor—lay the remains of Nanna’s wedding dress.
“Damn it!” I dropped to my knees, gathering them up in my arms.
Murray rushed in. She looked at the pieces of material. “Oh no,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder.
“She said she’d have it ready. She had to take it apart to fix the waist band and the neckline, but she said she’d have it done by my wedding. Why did she do this? Why didn’t she just tell me she couldn’t alter it?” I was seriously in danger of losing it. Not only was I out one wedding dress, but it had been Nanna’s, special to me in a way that no new gown would ever be.
Murray knelt down beside me. “Em, did you already pay her?” I nodded, too choked up to speak. “Then she’s defrauded you. We’ll put out an APB on her. There are probably other women she did the same thing to. I found her appointment book,” she said, holding up a black planner. “It looks like last week was pretty sparse. Before that she had an appointment scheduled with a Lavyrl McKenzie. If Janette kept that, then we have a time frame for her disappearance.”
I glanced over her shoulder. “Look.” I pointed to this week’s schedule. “There are five women due to come in for fittings this week. I guess I’m not the only one who’s going to be in tears.”
She nodded. “I’d better have Deacon get a team down here to sift through what’s left. We’re dealing with a scam artist at this point, and we need to contact these other women and find out everything we can.”
I stared at the ivory lace pieces in my hands. “Can I take these home? There’s no way I can fix them before the wedding, but they belonged to Nanna.”
“I’m sorry, Em.” Murray gently shook her head. “They’re part of our investigation, and we’ll have to keep them as evidence for now. But I’ll make sure they’re treated gently, and you’ll get them back as soon as we can.”
That was it then. I had no wedding dress, and Nanna’s dress had been ruined. Distraught, I slumped against the wall.
Murray held out her hand. “Get up, Em. You’ll get your skirt all dusty. Come on, now. Don’t worry. We’ll find you a dress. I promise.”
I blinked back tears. “But I wanted Nanna’s dress. Why is everything so screwed up? What’s happening?”
She sighed. “I wish I could give you an answer, but I can’t.”
As I stared at her, bereft, I realized that I hadn’t told her what I’d came up with that morning. The lack of a wedding dress was enough to make me cry, but it didn’t compare to the worry over Jimbo’s life being in danger.
“Let’s put my problem aside for a moment,” I said. “I have something to tell you. I went out to see Jimbo today. I wanted to get a feel for the meadow and the energy out there.”
“I know,” she said, holding up her hand. “He called me and told me everything, and I’m plenty spooked. I’m also not thrilled that you told him about the ring and the note, but I understand why you did. It’s okay.”
“Have you come up with any leads?” I asked. If I was right, nobody had tried to kill Joe. It had been a case of misidentification.
She shook her head. “No, but seeing that Jimmy might actually have been the target, I’m going to get a security system like you suggested. I’ve already made an appointment for them to come over and install it.”
A commotion at the front of the shop told us that her team of investigators had arrived. I recognized their faces, but couldn’t remember their names. While she gave them the rundown on the situation, I wandered over to the building superintendent, who had managed to find a can of cat food stuck away in a cupboard somewhere. Tilda was gobbling the food, purring away.
“I wonder what will happen to her,” I said, reaching out to scritch her behind the ears. “I wish I could take her, but that’s not an option at this point.”
He gave me a quick smile. “Don’t worry. The detective said that she’d have to call Animal Control. They need to check whether the cat’s underweight or if she’s been mistreated. That way they can add a charge of animal neglect or abuse to whatever Janette’s gotten herself into. I’m going to adopt her after she’s been checked out. She’s a nice cat, and our old Tommy died recently. He was fifteen. My daughter misses him and Tilda would be good for her, I think.”
At least I wouldn’t be lying awake at night, worrying about the cat. I told him he was doing a good thing, and then turned to find Murray headed my way. “Come on. I’ve asked them to be careful with your grandmother’s dress, by the way. They know that I’ll have their heads if anything happens to it. Let’s go get some caffeine. I think we both need it.”
As we left the shop, I glanced back, ruing the day I’d picked the Bridal Veil’s name out of the phone book.
Starbucks was almost empty—odd on a hot summer’s day, but good for us. I ordered an iced quad-shot Venti raspberry mocha, no whip, while Murray opted for a triple-caramel Frappuccino. We helped ourselves to gooey chocolate brownies, too. As we settled at a window table, more than ready for our sugar rush, it occurred to me that over the years Mur had walked through hell and high water with me. I just hoped I could return the favor.
“So, here we are again,” she said after a moment. “Seems like this is our ‘I need my hand held’ spot.” She raised her drink. “Here’s to holding hands and friendship.”
Mur seemed a bit wistful. I gazed at her, wondering if something other than the obvious was wrong. “Mur,” I said gently. “Is something bothering you? Is everything going okay with Jimbo?”
She glanced out the window for a moment, then turned back to me. “Jimmy and I are fine, actually. Even with all this crap going down. But there’s been a lot of other stress lately. Stuff I didn’t want to bother you with because I know you’ve been so frantic with the wedding plans.”
I stared at my cup. “Yeah, I have been frantic, I admit it. But I want to know what’s going on. We’re best buddies, Murray. We’ve been like this since college.” I held up crossed fingers. “So, talk to me.”
She cleared her throat. “I had a pregnancy scare last month.” Before I could say a word, she held up her hand. “It turned out negative, thank God, but it made me think. And Jimmy and I’ve had several long talks. Neither one of us sees ourselves as parents. We love our nieces and nephews and so on, but we just aren’t interested in having any of our own. So, I was talking to him about getting a vasectomy.”
I nodded. Made sense. Both of them were established in their lives, they weren’t kids who changed their minds depending on the way the wind was blowing. “What’s the problem?”
She shrugged. “My mother. You know that we don’t see eye-to-eye, but it’s gotten worse. When I told her that we weren’t going to settle down and raise a passel of kids, she got upset at me. She wants grandchildren. My brother’s probably fathered a few, but if he has, the women haven’t come forth and aren’t likely to. He’s such a loser. White Deer’s going to talk to her for me, though. Try to smooth things over.”
I winced. Even though I loved my kids, I didn’t see motherhood as life’s crowning achievement. It was an integral part of life for some women, but not the be-all and end-all for every woman. “I don’t know what it’s like to think of life without my kids, and I’m not going to pretend I do, but I am sorry she’s giving you trouble.”
“I just hate knowing that my mother thinks I’m a failure because I don’t have kids. I’ve climbed my way up a very difficult ladder to the job I have now. I’m in a responsible, important position. I own my own home, I’m in a stable relationship, and all she can say is ‘When are you going to get married and give me a grandchild?’ “ She sucked hard on her straw.
I was searching for something to say that might help when my cell phone went off. As I opened the phone and looked at the caller ID, my stomach dropped. It was Rose. Something was wrong, I just knew it.
“Oh shit,” I said, flipping it open and pressing the phone to my ear. “What’s wrong?”
Rose wasted no time with small talk. “Grandma M. had a heart attack,” she said. “For real this time. We’re at the hotel. You’d better come soon. They don’t know if she’s going to make it, and they’ve already sent her to Seattle. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”