Chapter 12 #2
When he started out of the room, the older man called out, “Hey, what about all that stuff on the bed?”
“I’m sure you can put it away.”
He knew Swift was angry, which pleased him.
Outside he turned to his man. “You and Marv are going down to Houma.”
“For what?”
“Stephanie and that bozo she’s with might show up there.”
“Like where, exactly.”
“There was a clinic in town they might want to check out. I’ll get you the address.”
“We can leave our things here and drive over to Houma,” Craig said.
“And do what, exactly?”
“We could start with the archives at the local papers, or we could try something else.”
When she asked for details, he said, “I’ll tell you about it on the way over.”
They walked over to the main house where Mrs. Marcos was in the dining room.
“I hope you slept well,” she said brightly.
“Yes, of course,” Stephanie answered. “The cottage is charming.”
“You can sit anywhere you like. Breakfast is served buffet style.”
They took a table by the window, then helped themselves to the buffet on the sideboard, indulging in the coffee cake and muffins that Mrs. Marcos had set out—along with her spinach quiche and strong Louisiana coffee.
“Are you enjoying your stay?” the B and B owner asked, as they were finishing their breakfast.
“It’s perfect,” Stephanie answered.
“And we enjoyed your accommodations so much that we’re hoping to keep our room for another night,” Craig added.
“That would be fine. Where are you off to today?”
“We thought we’d drive over to Houma.”
“It’s a lovely little town.”
“Didn’t I read about some kind of explosion there?” Craig asked.
Mrs. Marcos’ expression clouded. “Yes.”
“At an underground research lab,” Mrs. Marcos said, then pressed her lips together, indicating that she didn’t want to continue the subject.
What do you mean by underground? Craig asked.
“Nobody in town knew Dr. Solomon was still doing research.” The woman stopped, looking confused.
“Well, I guess some people did know. Like his nurse, Mrs. Goodell. She worked for him at the old clinic . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“I don’t know why I’m prattling on like this. I have things to do in the kitchen.”
“You’re just being friendly,” Stephanie said in a pleasant voice when her heart was pounding. She added her psychic power as she let Craig direct the message he sent the B and B owner.
If you know anything more about the Solomon Clinic or Dr. Solomon, tell us now. He repeated the suggestion, waiting tensely for what she would decide.
The outcome wasn’t a sure thing. Stephanie could see the woman going through a debate in her mind, and she felt Craig pushing the idea.
“So, who was this, Dr. Solomon?” Stephanie asked.
“Thirty years ago, he had a fertility clinic,” she said, as though she didn’t really want to speak the words. “My friend Darla Dubour went to him, and she was so appreciative when she got pregnant. She had a little boy. David.”
“It’s always nice when medical treatment works out,” Stephanie said brightly. She caught a stray thought from Craig and asked, “Where is her son now?”
The woman’s eyes clouded. “He died.”
Stephanie sucked in a startled breath. “What happened to him?”
“I should stop talking about this.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how we got off on the subject. I guess we were just looking for information about Houma so we could plan our day.”
“You can get that from the chamber of commerce or the town hall.”
“Yes, thanks,” Stephanie said, but the other woman was already bustling toward the dining room entrance where another couple was waiting to be seated.
I guess we hit some kind of nerve, Stephanie said to Craig when they were alone again.
Yeah. There must have been some blowback from the Solomon Clinic.
Or it’s because that woman’s son died.
I think we should go see her.
Do you think she’ll talk to us? Stephanie asked.
Maybe we can use the same method, Craig answered.
I hate doing that to a grieving mother.
I don’t love it either, but if it saves our lives, I’m willing to try it.
She winced.
They went back to their cottage, where they used the computer to look up Darla Dubour in Houma, Louisiana, and found that she lived in a small community outside of town.
“Should we call her?” Stephanie asked.
“I think it’s better if we just go over unannounced.”
They were in the car and on their way a few minutes after they’d looked up the location.
Stephanie felt a chill go through her.
Craig reached to cover her hand with his. “You’re thinking we’re going to find out something bad about ourselves when we talk to that woman.”
“Yes,” she admitted.
Wayne Channing, and his partner, Buck Arnot, Harold Goddard’s men, had arrived in Houma the evening before.
Because they’d been ordered to stake out the location where the Solomon Clinic had been located, they had spent an uncomfortable night in their car in a grocery store parking lot where they could see the target location.
“Got to pee,” Wayne said as he moved restlessly in his seat.
“There’s a gas station a couple blocks down.”
“But we’re supposed to keep the building in sight.”
Channing sighed. “This is a real long shot.”
“But we got our orders.”
“Okay, I’ll drive down to the gas station and do my thing. You stay here and watch the building.”
“And get arrested for loitering.”
“Walk up the sidewalk and back again, like you’re out for your morning constitutional.”
“Yeah, right. Come back with coffee and doughnuts.”
“What flavor?”
“Surprise me.” Buck climbed out and watched his partner drive off. When he was out of sight, he ducked around by the dumpsters. He didn’t need a smelly gas station to relieve himself. Then he started down the block, looking in shop windows.
When he got to the cross street, he turned and walked back, then did it again.
He was going to call Wayne on his cell and ask if he’d fallen into the gas station toilet when he saw something interesting.
A car turned in at the grocery store parking lot where he and his partner had spent the night. As he watched, two tough-looking men got out and stretched, like they’d just finished a long drive.
Their gazes were fixed on the building that he and Wayne had been watching.
When he saw his partner coming back, he flagged him down and climbed back into the car.
“I can go into that parking lot, and we can switch. You can drive to the gas station, and I’ll wait here.”
“I already done it out by the dumpsters.”
Wayne made a disgusted sound. “Didn’t your momma teach you better?”
Ignoring the comment, Buck said, “Keep on drivin’ past that parking lot.”
The urgency in his voice made Wayne glance toward the lot and then speed up.
“Two tough-looking guys,” he said.
“Yeah. I’m thinkin’ they might have the same assignment we got.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Must be a lot of interest in Swift and Branson.”
“So what are we gonna do?”
“Call the guy who hired us and ask for instructions.”
“He’s probably still sleeping.’
Buck’s voice took on a nasty tone as he turned toward his partner. “Well, we got reason to wake him up.”