The sun was low in the sky over downtown Minneapolis when Jane finally dropped David off in front of the Linden Building. They’d spent an extra day in Nebraska for two reasons—three if you counted the fact that Jane was having a terrible time convincing Kenzie that she’d be safe flying David back to Minneapolis. The main reason they’d stayed was to allow David some time to rest. He was so deeply exhausted that he’d slept nearly all day Sunday. He’d knocked on the locked bedroom door around seven that night. Kenzie had let him out but kept the rifle on him all during dinner. Jane was ready with barbecued chicken, smashed parmesan potatoes, and broccoli au gratin. After apologizing profusely again and again—and promising that he’d see a shrink as soon as he returned to the Twin Cities—he went back to bed and slept peacefully for another sixteen hours.
The other reason that Jane wanted to stay an extra day was because her face looked like she’d gone ten rounds with a rabid moose. Her body felt the same way, but you couldn’t see those bruises. She had a bad gash near her left eye, the same eye that had rapidly swollen shut and turned a blackish purple. She also had some scratches on her right cheek and another cut under her chin.
When it came to her appearance, waiting an extra day had been
fruitless. David winced when he saw the extent of the damage for the first time on Sunday evening, but there was little he could do except say again how sorry he was. Kenzie had applied some makeup before they left for the airport, not that it helped much. On the way back, Jane and David had talked about a cover story. She’d fallen off a tractor, or been mauled by a cow. It would have been pretty hilarious if it hadn’t been so serious. And also, it hurt when Jane laughed. David had his own cuts and bruises, but nothing to match Jane’s battered face.
“You going to be okay?” Jane asked as David opened the car door.
“I think so.”
“I don’t feel entirely comfortable about you sleeping in your car tonight.”
“If I don’t drink, I’ve got much better judgment.”
“So don’t drink. Promise?”
He smiled at her. “Promise.”
“You know, we could still rent a motel room. I could stand guard and you could sleep.”
“Absolutely not. We’ve already been through that. I’ve used my car this long, a few more nights won’t kill me.”
She gave a grudging nod. “I guess.”
“Where are you headed?”
Under normal circumstances, Jane would have gone up to Cordelia’s apartment to get Mouse. After nearly losing him, she didn’t even like the idea of letting him out of her sight. But she knew he was safe with Cordelia and Cecily. She also had a couple of calls she wanted to make—without Cordelia watering plants or tying a shoelace right next to her. Jane was used to a lot more privacy than Cordelia allowed her.
“I’m not sure.” She couldn’t go home—Luberman could be lurking. Same with her restaurants. “I may run out to Southdale, try to find some better makeup. Cordelia’s going to hit the ceiling when she sees my face.”
“What did we settle on?”
“I was thrown from a horse.”
“Right. I’m not sure I’d buy it, but hopefully she’s more gullible.”
“Let’s hope,” said Jane. “I’ll call my old therapist from there. One way or the other, I’ll get you in to see someone tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Jane. You’re my angel.”
“Hardly.”
“Don’t kid yourself. See you in the morning.”
As she drove away, she knew without a doubt that David needed to talk to someone and fast—a therapist, or even a plain old doctor, someone who could help him sort out what was happening to him. Until he had a diagnosis, he was a man truly alone in the dark.
Jane drove a few blocks, then pulled into a parking space across from the Butler Building and stopped. She called Nolan on her cell phone.
“Hey, it’s me,” she said, rolling down the window and resting her elbow on the door. “I’m back from Nebraska.”
“Welcome home,” said Nolan. “You have a good time?”
“Yes and no.”
“Sounds like a story there.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in Winneconne, still working on the Kiskanen murder. So far, it’s been a dead end.”
All weekend she’d been undecided about whether or not to tell him about the run-in she’d had with Luberman on Friday night. She decided to let it go—for now. “Anything new in Eagle Ridge?”
He explained about Luberman somehow ending up in Minneapolis right outside the Linden Building. “His truck never left his cabin. Far as I know, he doesn’t have another car. I don’t know what happened.”
“Joanna must have been terrified.”
“And then some. But there is some good news. Just got off the phone with Hitchcock in Eagle Ridge. Seems they’re going to start dredging Whitefish Lake in the morning.”
“Did you tell him what Cordelia found on Luberman’s houseboat?”
“You bet I did. Problem is, they can’t get a warrant to search the property without legally obtained evidence.” He cleared his throat.
Jane got the point.
“But Hitchcock’s been working on a warrant to dredge the lake for
weeks. He finally succeeded. If they find the body of that woman, Luberman will be put away for a good long time.”
“Have you told Joanna?”
“Not yet. Thought I’d wait, see if they come up with anything. I don’t want to get her hopes up. She’s kind of, you know … emotional.”
Jane smiled. That was an understatement.
“Not much more we can do for now. We just gotta show a little patience. My guy in Eagle Ridge said he’d stick to Luberman like glue. If he’s got another car somewhere, we’ll find it.”
They talked for a few more minutes. As soon as they said good-bye, Jane got another call. She checked the caller ID. Cordelia.
“Hi,” she said, opening the glove compartment and grabbing a handful of Reese’s Pieces. “What’s up?”
“You’re back?” She sounded breathless.
“Yup.”
“Where are you?”
“Ah, the Lyme House. Why?”
“I’m having a nervous breakdown, that’s why!”
“Joanna?”
“Well there’s that, yes. But this is about Hattie. Octavia and some new boyfriend of hers stopped by this morning. They’re in town for a few days and wanted to take Hatts to the Mall of America. The Mall of America, that vile monument to hedonistic consumption!”
“You love the Mall of America.”
“Don’t change the subject. I didn’t want to let her go. I mean, what business does Octavia have waving the name F.A.O. Schwarz in front of Hattie’s nose like some … some huge lump of bubble gum? It was a bribe. Bribing her own daughter! But that’s just like Octavia, oiling around, blinking her fake eyelashes, and looking needy. What could I do? Hattie wanted to go, and Octavia is more or less her mother. Anyway, they said they’d have her back by seven, but it’s past seven and she’s not here! Something bad’s happened, Janey, I know it.”
Jane checked her watch. It was ten after seven. “They probably got caught in traffic. Give them a little more time, okay?”
“Jane, you have to get back here right away. I need someone to lean on when the phone call comes.”
“What phone call?”
“From the police. Or the FBI. Come to think of it, it could even be from the Department of Homeland Security! That new boyfriend of hers is a foreigner.”
“Where’s he from?”
“England!”
There was no point in arguing. Cordelia would worry herself into a frenzy until Hattie was home safe and sound.
“Wait … wait,” shrieked Cordelia. “That’s my cell phone. Just a minute.”
Jane could hear Cordelia’s voice in the background. A moment later she was back on the line, whispering this time. “It’s Octavia.”
“And?”
“She wants to keep Hattie overnight.”
The problem was the same. Cordelia couldn’t really say no. “What does Hattie want?”
“Don’t know. Just a sec.”
Jane waited for several minutes this time. When Cordelia finally came back, she wasn’t whispering anymore. Her voice was flat. “Hattie wants to stay with them. They promised to take her to a movie. More bribes. You know how much Hattie adores modern film. It’s all my fault, Jane. I taught her all about the movies, and now it comes back to bite me on the ass.”
“Cordelia, she’ll be fine. Octavia may not be much of a mother, but she won’t let anything happen to Hattie. I’m sure of it.”
“Oh, Janey.” There was a long pause, during which Cordelia’s voice regained some of its normal firmness. “I can’t stand this. First thing in the morning I’m contacting a lawyer. I should have done it ages ago. I want full custody of Hattie. And I want it by tomorrow night.”
“I, ah, don’t think the court system moves that fast.”
“Do you think Octavia will contest it?”
“Honestly, Cordelia, I have no idea. For your sake, I hope not.”
“Yeah, well, that kid will only be gone one night and I already miss her like … like I’d miss my own nose if it fell off.”
“Your nose?”
“Yeah. You know what I mean.”
“Sure.”
“Janey, how did this happen to a woman who once viewed all children as sticky, noisy, snot-filled, demanding, malevolent little monsters?”
“Don’t know. Guess you actually got to know one.”
“Huh.” Another pause. “When are you coming back to the loft?”
Jane had pretty much decided that she’d spend the night in a motel. She wanted to give her face a little more time to heal before Cordelia saw it and demanded an explanation. She also had to call her therapist, see if she could get David in first thing tomorrow morning. “Well, I was thinking I’d stay here. Get a little work done.”
Jane wasn’t sure exactly how, but Cordelia always knew when she wasn’t telling the full story.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing’s up. I just, you know, thought—”
“You never told me how things went with Kenzie.”
“You never asked.”
“I’m in no mood for cute, Jane.”
“Kenzie’s great. We had a wonderful time.”
“But?”
“No buts.”
“Janey? It’s foolish to try to hide things from Auntie Cordelia.”
“If you want me to come back to the loft tonight, I’ll come back.”
“Excellent. And you’ll tell me everything.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
Big, languorous sigh. “We’ll see, dearheart. Gotta go dig out my thumbscrews. Ta.”