Dennis Larsen - With Cruel Intent

She returned to her desk, again smiling and overdoing the wiggle but Felix was appreciative, nonetheless.

"Just a moment and he'll see you. Can I get you anything?" she put an unusual amount of emphasis on the word 'anything'.

"No thanks, I'm good. On second thought Marge, could you just check your planner and see if I'm booked tomorrow night with Mr. Savard?"

"Surely, no problem." She stepped behind the desk, pulled up the electronic schedule and after a minute of looking it over reported, "Yes, I have you meeting Mr. Savard tomorrow night at a property south of Moody Air Force Base. Is that correct?"

"Perfect, knew you'd get it right the first time. You worked for Mr. Savard long?"

"A few years, nice place to work," she said.

Within the time it took Felix to write down Marge's phone number, the door to the director's office opened and Mr. Savard stepped out waving his hand at Felix to join him inside. The two entered the smallish office and Iggy closed the door behind him, then one by one lowered the blinds, securing the location from prying eyes.

“What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d probably drop by today. I wanted to confirm our make believe meeting tomorrow night with Marge. She’s put together Iggy. You doing her?”

“No, I most certainly am not,” the displeased director said.

“I had to come by anyway and get the little present you have for me. You got it online under a fake name?”

“Yeah, had it shipped to a generic postal box in Douglas, drove down on the weekend to pick it up, better be worth it.”

“From my perspective, it’ll make it much easier. Thanks for following through and getting it for me,” Felix replied.

“Should fit, says it’s for that exact make and model,” Iggy clarified.

“Good. You ready with the packet for our friend?”

“Yeah, took care of the key issue in Douglas as well, I’ll drop everything off tonight.”

“Any word from Jeremy? Wouldn’t surprise me if he backs out at the last minute,” the taller man inquired.

“Nothing, don’t expect we will either. Let’s walk out to my car and I’ll grab that for you,” The Director said, moving toward the door and ushering Felix through the reception area and out into the parking lot.

The pair went to the sedan parked in the spot reserved for the director. Iggy popped the trunk and removed a small 6x8x3 inch parcel and handed it to Felix after looking around to confirm that they were not being watched. They shook hands, both grateful that would likely be the last time either man saw the other and they went their separate ways.

At noon 'The Wolf' entered the jail portion of his facility and spoke with Seymour who had been trying to reconstruct Monday morning as best he could.

"Sheriff, thanks for coming. I've been thinking a lot about Monday and I remembered something that may help both of us," the accused said.

"I wish somebody would help us, we've done nothing but follow bad leads this week. What have you got?"

Seymour filled the Sheriff in on the items he remembered about the unknown stranger. He filled in as much detail as he could then included, "I remember exactly the type of sunglasses he had on and I was curious if the people that saw the shooter at the diner described the same type."

"That's certainly a thought but you could just as easily be telling me about yours."

"True enough but Sheriff you have my sunglasses. They're in my backpack that you took from me when I was arrested. They are not the same style or make, get them and you'll see, and I'll bet your boys didn't turn up any other at my house either because I only have the one pair."

Lupo left briefly, and then returned to further his discussion with Seymour.

"Has your office interviewed any of the students about Monday? Maybe somebody saw this guy. Start with the friend I was talking to in the gym or some of my racquetball classmates. It's likely that one of them could confirm my description."

The Sheriff knew the young man was correct but his resources were spread quite thin already. If he got a chance he would send Guest back over to the school and do some interviews.

"So Seymour, tell me about the sunglasses."

"I know what type they are because my dad had the exact same pair and they've come in and out of style a few times. They were Ray Ban Aviators with the gold rims and reflective surface, kind of like a mirror on the front. Check with the people that saw the shooter, show them a picture, maybe they'll recognize it if they see it again."

"I appreciate the help Seymour but you don't have to tell me how to do my job."

"Sorry Sheriff, I'm just reaching at straws, way harder being on the inside looking out, if you know what I mean."

"I understand, but believe me we're doing our darndest to prove your innocence," he paused. "Or guilt."

The doors at the end of the cellblock opened and Deputy Breland approached the two, carrying Seymour's backpack. The Sheriff took the pack and rummaged through the many zippered pockets until he found a pair of sunglasses. They were much different than Seymour had described. The frame was plastic, tortoise shell, a mix of black — brown — yellow, and the lenses were a dark brown, more dense at the top then lighter at the bottom. Angelo inspected them closely and found the Maui Waui stamped on the inside of the left temple.

"Seymour, describe the make and model again to Deputy Breland here. Breland take this down and find me a picture that we can show the witnesses at the diner. Start with the Delaney woman at the library and work your way to each of the people we have on file ‘til they've all seen it. On second thought, I want you to do it like a line up, get five different models, various brands, all similar and include both the Ray-Ban and Seymour’s." He handed the glasses to Breland. "Then have them tell you which one they saw, let's see if we can get a consensus."

The Sheriff looked back at Seymour, "You happy?"

Seymour responded in the affirmative and the officers left the block.

At 4:00 p.m. Lillian Wood finally got a call from the bank manager. There was both good and bad news. The bank was prepared to provide a line of credit on the property and home but the very best they could do was $150,000. Mrs. Wood's heart sunk, $50,000 short and really nowhere to get that kind of money quickly. She had nothing to sell, no close friend, at least not that would have that kind of money, and the hope of freeing her son, sooner than later, fleeting. The bank manager suggested that she approach the court to see if they would bring the bail down. He'd seen it done before, however, he assured her that the money would be ready Thursday by noon and she could drop by and pick it up at her convenience. She thanked him and phoned the library.

Blanche picked up the phone and delivered the usual spill but with much less cheer and enthusiasm.

"Sounds like you're having the same kind of day as me, Blanche," Seymour's mom said, also sounding a little down in the dumps.

"Well, could be better, but I'm sure it's nothing like what you've been going through. We just had our inspection and we failed because of one item which we'll have fixed Friday but it means they have to come back again and put us through another day of stress."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Well, I just got off the phone with the bank and they'll only give me $150,000 for Seymour's bail. I'm $50,000 short. The manager suggested I go to the judge and see if he'll extend some mercy and lower the amount. Guess that's really the only option I've got and who knows how long that will take. What do you think?"

There was an unusually long pause as Lillian waited to see what the librarian thought.

"Blanche dear, you still there? Did we get cut off?"