Tess Gerritsen - Peggy Sue Got Murdered

"That shoulda tipped you off right there," said Shradick, spearing another sausage. "Who in his right mind leaves sunny California and moves to Albion?"

"You mean his references were falsified?" asked M. J.

Beamis nodded. "Courtesy of the U.S. government."

"What?"

"See, the name Herbert Esterhaus was an alias. We found his old IDs in his house. His real name was Dr. Lawrence Hebron. Oh, he was a biochemist, all right, but he didn't work for a company in California. He worked in Miami. A designer drug lab owned by the mob. A real genius, so I hear. Then he got busted and turned state's evidence. They put him in the Witness Protection Program, gave him a new name, a new resume. And a new job, with Cygnus. Where, I take it, he was working out just fine."

Adam nodded. "He was one of our best."

"And you think that's why he was killed?" asked M. J. "Old mob connections?"

"There are folks in Miami who aren't happy with him. If they traced him to Albion, then he was a dead man."

"We figure," said Shradick, wiping sausage grease from his mouth, "Esterhaus is the key to it all. Maybe he needed some extra cash, so he rips off a few grains of Zestron-L from the lab, sells it on the street. A few junkies die as a result. Then his old buddies from Miami get wind of his whereabouts, come up, and perform a little thirty eight caliber justice."

There was a silence as M. J. and Adam considered the theory. "So we're supposed to believe that Miami boys drove up and did your job for you?" said M. J. She shook her head. "Too neat. And who blew up my house?"

"Esterhaus was a biochemist," said Shradick. "He could put together a respectable bomb."

"Why? Just to shut me up?"

Beamis laughed. "There are times, Novak, when I would love to shut you up. Consider what the man was faced with, if you kept pushing your investigation. Charges of theft. Manslaughter, for those junkies. Plus, you'd blow his cover identity, so his life was at stake as well."

"And Maeve?" said M. J., glancing at the nude photos. "How does she figure in?"

"We don't know," said Beamis. "We thought maybe Mr. Q. could shed some light."

Adam shook his head, troubled by what he'd heard. "Maeve never said a word to me about any of this."

"You had no idea she was seeing Esterhaus?"

"She had her own life, her own apartment. I suspected there was a man, but I didn't know his name. And she wouldn't bother telling me ." In disgust, he swept up the photos and stuffed them back in the envelope. "I'd strangle him myself, if he weren't already dead."

M. J. caught the glance that flew between Beamis and Shradick. Careful, Adam , she thought. They're looking for suspects. Don't provide them with one .

She said, quickly, "Do you think Maeve knew about his real identity? We know she and Esterhaus weren't getting along-those arguments at the lab, remember? Maybe it had nothing to do with the job. Maybe it was personal. Maybe she learned the truth about him. And she walked out. Not on the job, but on him ."

"She could have told me," said Adam. "But she didn't. Lord, what a disaster I've been as a father."

M. J. touched his arm. It wasn't enough to close the gap yawning between them; perhaps nothing could close that gap. But it let him know she cared. "Maybe she couldn't tell you. Maybe she was ashamed she had fallen for the guy in the first place. Or scared."

"Of what?"

"The man she was sleeping with had a price on his head. And he was pushing poison on the street. That would scare a lot of people."

"Then why didn't she come to me ?" said Adam. "I would have kicked him out of Cygnus so fast, he wouldn't know what hit him."

"You may have answered your own question," said M. J. "If she had any feelings at all for Esterhaus, she wouldn't expose him. So she just walked away. Went some place he couldn't find her."

"South Lexington?" Shradick snorted. "I can think of better neighborhoods to hide in."

Beamis scooped up the envelope of photos and rose to leave. "We'll keep trying to find her," he said. "But I'm afraid it's turned into a game of hide-and-seek. And Maeve's pretty damn good at it." He glanced at Adam. "As you already know."

Adam shook his head, a weary gesture of acceptance. Defeat. "You won't find her," he said. "No one will. Not unless she wants to be found."

They spotted Celeste a block away, her curlicued hair bouncing up and down as she skipped rope. She didn't break stride as they drove closer and pulled up next to her. She was counting to herself in a soft, flat drone: "One twenty-eight, one twenty-nine, one thirty…"

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Adam whispered to M. J. "Maybe we should try Anthony again."

"And get dinged for another two hundred bucks?" M. J. shook her head. "This lad knows her way around. Let's see if she'll help us out."

"One thirty-eight, one thirty-nine…"

"Hello, Celeste," M. J. called through the open car window. "Can we talk to you?"

"One forty-four, one forty-five."

"We need a little help."

"One forty-eight…" The rope suddenly fell limp, snagged by Celeste's shoe. She stamped her foot in annoyance. "I was goin' for a record, too." Resignedly she turned to M. J. "So what ya need?"

"We want to talk to Jonah," said M. J. "The big man."

"What for?"

"Just talk. About what's coming down."

"Jonah doesn't talk to outsiders."

"Maybe he'll talk to us. A new jump rope says he will."

"I'd rather have a watch. Y'know, with all those fancy dials and things."

"And you thought Anthony was steep," muttered Adam.

"Okay," said M. J. "A watch. But only if he talks to us."

Celeste grinned. "Wait here," she said, and trotted off down the street. She turned left, into an alley, and vanished.

"Is this going to work?" said Adam.

"We can't get to Maeve any other way. So we have to try going to the top. If she's Jonah's lady, that's where she'll be. With him."

"Maeve won't talk to us. She won't let us anywhere near her."

"But things have changed. Esterhaus is dead. She's a suspect. So she'd better talk to us. Before the police make her talk." She looked at Adam. "Besides, this is your chance to call off the feud, or whatever it is between you two. It's gone on long enough. Don't you think it's time for you and Maeve to be a family again?"

He gazed down the street, at the alley where Celeste had vanished. "You're right," he said softly. "It's time…"

They waited. Ten minutes, fifteen.

Instead of Celeste, it was their old escort Leland who emerged from the alley. He sauntered over to their car and peered inside.

"You two again," he said.

"We want to see Jonah," said M. J.

"What for?" demanded Leland.

"This place is gonna be thick with cops. I thought the big man might want to know what's coming down."

Leland looked skeptical. "You doin' him a favor? Sure."

"I got one to ask in return."

An exchange of favors-that concept, Leland could grasp. He opened M. J.'s door. "Okay, you're on. Just you, not the dude."

"Now wait a minute," said Adam, climbing out of the car as she did.

"It's the chick or nobody."

"She's not going in there without me."

"Then she ain't goin' in at all."

"If those are the terms, then we're not-"

"Adam, can I speak to you?" M. J. grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. "Don't ruin it."

"You don't know anything about this Jonah character!"

"And I never will, if I don't go in."

Adam glanced at Leland, who was standing by the rear bumper. "He's twice your size. No, he's twice my size. If he wanted to, he could-"

"Do you want to contact Maeve or not?"

"Not if it means sending you off with Bigfoot."

She laughed. "I'm not afraid of him, you know."