Brian Freeman - Goodbye to the Dead (Jonathan Stride Book 7)

‘Enough!’ Bernd snapped. ‘We don’t have time for this. Gag her. I’ll make sure the street is empty. We’ll put her in the truck and get the other girl, and we’ll head for the boat.’

The man shoved the gun into his belt and marched out of the house. Cat and Anna were alone. Anna unrolled another stretch of duct tape and cut it with her teeth. The tape dangled from her fingers. She grabbed a dirty sock from the floor and wadded it up in a ball in her fist.

‘Open up,’ she said to Cat.

‘How can you do this to me?’

‘ Open your mouth .’

‘I’m your friend.’

Anna pinched Cat’s jaw until her mouth opened and shoved the sock deep inside, making her choke. Then she slapped the tape across Cat’s lips and dragged the girl roughly to her feet. She pushed Cat toward the back door.

‘Time to go.’

Two and a half hours between Shakopee and Duluth marked the difference between Janine’s old world and her new world.

Archie was at the prison to give a statement to the media and handle the paperwork for her release. He arranged for her departure in an unmarked van from the loading dock. They drove past the unsuspecting reporters and made their way to the parking lot of a nearby Best Western hotel, where he had new clothes waiting for her and a room in which she could change. She showered and put on a blouse with three-quarter sleeves and a vibrant red-and-gray print. She left it untucked over tapered black dress slacks and heels. She wadded up the clothes she’d worn out of Shakopee and put them in a plastic garbage basket, where they could be burned for all she cared.

Archie waited outside with a town car and driver. He had champagne opened and a tray of hors d’oeuvres. She emerged from the hotel, wearing sunglasses, and got in the back seat of the car with him. They headed north to Duluth, but they didn’t speak for miles. She wanted to savor the silence, which he seemed to understand.

Somewhere near Forest Lake, on the northern edge of the Twin Cities, Archie got a text on his phone. He eased back in the leather seat, champagne in hand, and studied her over the half-rims of his glasses. His curly gray hair nearly grazed the roof of the car.

‘My police sources tell me they’re executing a search warrant on a house in Superior,’ he said. ‘It has something to do with the gun and jewelry that were found.’

‘Oh, yes?’ Janine watched the wilderness passing on the freeway. The lakes. The pines and birch trees. ‘Does that matter to us?’

‘Not really. I told you that you’re likely safe in any event. However, if they find the person who really pulled the trigger, it removes any final legal issues hanging over your head. A complete exoneration may be useful in whatever you choose to do next.’

‘Ah,’ she said mildly.

‘Do you know what you plan to do next?’ he asked her.

‘Well, being free doesn’t make me a surgeon again. Not to be crass, but the medical board never really cared whether I murdered my husband. They only cared that I was popping pain pills while operating.’

‘But you’re clean now.’

‘I am, but I’m almost nine years out of touch with my field.’

‘You can catch up.’

‘No offense, Archie, but right now, I just want to find a way to make it through today.’

He smiled at her the way a grandfather would. ‘Yes, of course. My apologies.’

They didn’t speak for the rest of the journey. One hundred and fifty miles took her back to Duluth. It made her sad to drive into the heart of the city, because she could see her estate on the hillside from the freeway. The house she’d designed. The house that was supposed to be her lifelong sanctuary. It belonged to someone else now. She’d been forced to sell it years ago to settle the malpractice case against her. It would never be hers again. Not that she wanted it now.

The town car took her to the hotel and shopping complex called Fitger’s. That would be her home while she assessed her future. Archie had arranged a press conference at his office the following day, but she needed at least one day and night of privacy. Anonymity. He’d already checked her into the August Fitger suite on the hotel’s top floor, with a king bed, whirlpool tub, and a view toward the vastness of the lake, and he’d stocked the room with clothes and toiletries. When they arrived, he handed her an old-fashioned key.

‘I’ll call you in the morning,’ Archie said, ‘but contact me if you need anything at all.’

‘I will. Thank you.’

‘You might need cash, so here you are.’

He gave her five hundred dollars. And still there was doubt in his eyes.

Janine didn’t go to her room. She’d been locked up for too long to lock herself inside again. With sunglasses hiding her face, she shopped both levels of the complex. She bought an expensive bottle of white wine and a hand-blown Hungarian wine glass. Downstairs, at the bookstore, she selected a long literary novel to pass the evening. The blond-haired manager was friendly, but Janine was pretty sure the woman recognized her. Even so, she was discreet.

After an hour, she went upstairs to her suite, opened the wine, and drank. She dragged an armchair to the floor-to-ceiling windows and stared at the majestic blue water. Five stories below her, people wandered the boardwalk, and children screamed and laughed. It was summer — the perfect season. A ship came in under the lift bridge. A ship went out.

Still she drank. Soon she was buzzed, and some of the weight lifted from her shoulders.

She didn’t know how long she’d been drinking alone when she heard a knock at the suite door. There was no doubt in her mind who it was. She’d told Archie it was okay to let him know. She got up, feeling wobbly, and made her way to the door and opened it.

‘Hello, Howard,’ she said.

‘Janine.’ He said it in a hushed voice, like someone standing in front of a Michelangelo sculpture.

He had flowers in his hand, a sunny bouquet of yellow roses, white daisies, and purple irises. He wore a suit that was old but had been recently cleaned and pressed. A faint grease stain marred his blue tie. His penny loafers had been shined. His center-parted hair rose high on his forehead and nestled in brown curls.

He handed her the flowers, and she said, ‘How sweet. Thank you.’

She found that she was almost glad to see him. Everything had changed in her life, but Howard was the constant, and there was something comforting about him. She felt warmth that wasn’t really affection but may have been gratitude. She pulled him by the elbow into the suite and shut the door.

‘No one saw you?’ she asked.

‘No.’

‘Do you want wine?’

‘Sure.’

She poured him a glass and poured herself another, emptying the bottle. She returned to the windows, and he followed her and stood next to her. The king-sized bed with its brocaded green comforter was near them by the adjacent wall. They sipped wine in silence. He finished his glass and took her hand. His skin was warm. He’d never touched her before, but she knew what it meant.

Janine put her own wine down and faced him. She reached up to stroke his face. Her fingertips caressed his shoulder. She tilted her head slightly, leaned in, and kissed him softly, lips to lips. His eyes were closed. She smelled mint on his breath.

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ she whispered.

‘It’s the only thing I’ve dreamed about for years.’

The power of his fantasy made her flush. She felt no arousal herself, but she enjoyed the long-dormant sensation of controlling a man. She took over, which was what she always did in bed. She led the way. She dominated. Only one man had ever been different, after a lifetime of submissive husbands and lovers. Her equal.