Brian Freeman - Stalked

"What are you going to do?"

"I have to talk to this Lassiter woman and convince her to let us risk her life to catch this guy."

Teitscher scratched his chin. "You haven't convinced me about Maggie yet."

"I understand."

"But I'd be a lousy cop to ignore this, and I'm a damn good cop whatever the hell you think."

"I know you are."

Teitscher stood up. "Okay, I'll get the wheels rolling on the surveillance."

"Thanks, Abel. I think we should keep the details about the sex club and the rapist between you and me for now."

"You going political on me?"

"No, I don't want to tip our hand. The more people who know about this, the easier it is to have a leak."

"All right, fair enough."

Stride watched Teitscher leave. He was glad to have a truce in the war between them and to have his own role in the investigation out in the open. That was the only thing he felt good about. Otherwise, he was filled with anxiety about what lay ahead, as if he were tangled in the sheet of his parachute as the ground streaked closer. He almost wished that Kathy Lassiter would pull the plug, which would cancel the party and thwart Serena's determination to go inside the walls. He was concerned for the safety of both of them.

He was surprised when his phone rang. It was still early. The caller ID was from a 312 area code. Chicago.

"Stride."

"You're an early riser, Lieutenant. I like that."

"Who is this?" Stride asked.

"My name is Philip Proutz. I'm with the Securities and Exchange Commission at our Midwest office in Chicago. I work on compliance investigations."

"I see." Stride was on guard, and Proutz sensed it.

"If you'd like to confirm who I am, you can look up our office number on the Web and call me back through the main switchboard."

"No offense, Mr. Proutz, but I think I will do that."

They were reconnected two minutes later.

"All right, what can I do for you, Mr. Proutz?" Stride asked.

"You contacted our office yesterday, Lieutenant, making inquiries about a broker in Duluth named Mitchell Brandt. I'd be interested in knowing the reason for your request."

"I'm not really in a position to discuss that right now," Stride told him.

"You do realize that if this is in conjunction with Mr. Brandt's securities activities, then the jurisdiction is federal. It's our baby."

Stride hesitated. "It has nothing to do with that."

"Ah." Proutz sounded surprised. "What about a company called Infloron Medical?"

"I've never heard of it. Now you're making me curious, Mr. Proutz."

"I understand. I thought we could save each other time, you see, if we were working the same case from different ends. Infloron Medical is a public company in the Twin Cities that produces a drug called Zerax that promotes tissue regeneration in burn victims. The drug was recently approved by the FDA."

"You lost me," Stride said.

"Infloron's stock more than doubled after FDA approval of Zerax last summer. We're looking into some large stock purchases shortly before the FDA ruling was announced. We think Mitchell Brandt may have made substantial trades based on insider information."

Serena stood at the windows looking out from Tony's office to the birch forest behind his house. She saw more dotted lines of deer tracks in the snow. They were everywhere, leaving trails for her to follow.

"This is a beautiful spot, Tony," she murmured without looking behind her.

Tony was in his leather chair by the sofa, sipping coffee and waiting as she paced. He didn't push her to talk. He was wearing a brown suit, shined brown shoes, and a brown tie.

"I appreciate your seeing me on such short notice," she added.

"You said it was important."

Serena nodded. She figured if she actually waited here long enough, she would see the deer picking their way through the trees. It had happened before. She had seen deer, possum, rabbits, and even a fox once. The rust-colored animal with its bushy tail was much smaller than she expected.

She turned and went back to the sofa and sat down. She played with her hair. Tony was silent.

"What would happen if you wore something other than brown?" Serena asked.

"My head would explode."

Serena laughed. "Maggie jokes about it, you know."

"She's kidded me about it for ten years."

"Is it supposed to soothe your patients?"

"My patients?" Tony said. "No, it's supposed to soothe me. Brown is my armor. That's a trade secret, by the way, so don't tell anyone."

"Not even Maggie?"

"Especially not Maggie."

Serena drummed her fingers on the arm of the sofa.

"I have to do something tonight that I'm not comfortable with," she said finally.

"Okay."

"I could use some advice on how to handle it."

"Okay."

He never led her. Sometimes it infuriated her, because she wanted him to give her a direction and not feel like the burden to say where they were going was always on her shoulders. That was stupid, of course. It was her therapy session.

"Let's talk about something else first," she said. "It's about Eric."

Tony waited. When he drank coffee, the black mug covered the lower half of his face, and all she saw were his hound dog eyes.

"Did he mention seeing a woman named Helen Danning?"

"No."

"Have you ever treated a woman named Helen Danning?"

"No."

"Well, that was easy," she said. "I'm stalling, have you noticed?"

Tony didn't reply.

"Aren't you supposed to pull this stuff out of me?" she asked him.

"With what? Truth serum?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Serena sighed. "Okay, I'm going to tell you about something that you may or may not already know about from other patients. I realize you wouldn't admit it even if you did. There's a sex club in town. A place where singles and couples go to have sex with each other and with women who act as 'volunteers.' "

"Okay."

"I have to watch the club tonight because of an investigation. I'm not a participant, just an observer."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Nervous," Serena admitted. "Much more so than I've told anyone. I'm afraid I could lose it. If I see a man climbing on top of a stranger, I'm afraid I'm going to have flashbacks of Blue Dog on top of me."

"Are you having them now?" he asked.

"Sometimes."

"Have you lost it yet?"

"No. I'm dealing with it."

"Then why do you think you're going to lose it tonight?"

"This is so much more explicit. It's not like a mental image I can push away. These people are going to be right in front of me."

"That makes sense," Tony said. "You're a fifteen-year-old girl. You don't have any power or choice in what's going to happen to you. You're totally helpless. Right?"

Serena rolled her eyes. "No."

"You're not fifteen? You actually have some control over your life?"

"You're a real shit, Tony."

"I gather people go to this club because they consider it an erotic outlet. Do you consider it erotic?"

"Not particularly, but I'm curious."

"So?"

"So I feel a little guilty about that."

"What makes you more uncomfortable? Your nervousness or your guilt?"

"I don't know. It's about the same."

Tony nodded. "I'm going to give you a pill that will completely remove all of your feelings and emotions about this."

She looked at him. "What kind of pill?"

"It doesn't really matter. What kind would you like? An aspirin? A chewable vitamin?"

"Funny."

Tony shrugged. "From what you've described, you're feeling exactly what I would expect you to feel about something like this. I can't help you not to feel anything. The only issue is how you deal with those feelings and whether you control them, or they control you. I realize that when you were fifteen you weren't in a position to control them. Fortunately-"