Deadly Stillwater

Mac called Jupe, who had nothing to report yet. He said he would call as soon as something popped up. Figuring Jupe needed a second set of eyes, Mac called his cousin Shawn out of bed to go over and help. After the call, he went back to the whiteboard to deal with their newest concern.

Inside Job: Phone call and kidnappers “rip out” within five minutes. Did someone tip them off? Timing suggests it, but who? Inside department? FBI? Hisle’s law firm? Most likely in the department.

Mac pinched the bridge of his nose. They needed to figure out who knew about the call. Paddy and Double Frank were there at the time. In fact, Paddy told the room about it. He jotted down a note to call Paddy and Double Frank and have them make a list.

Then he turned his attention to the girls. He drew a map of the state of Minnesota and Wisconsin, marking River Falls, Clearwater, Lake Street in Minneapolis, Ellsworth, Duluth, and the safe house in St. Paul. He thought that the girls were within an hour of the Twin Cities at most. If that were the case, Duluth didn’t fit; it was at least two hours away. Was Duluth used to throw them off? Make them search a wider area? That was possible.

Where are the girls? Phone calls from Clearwater, Ellsworth, and Duluth. Buried underground. Must be rural, private, wooded area that public doesn’t use. Within an hour of the Cities.

Phone calls: Clearwater, Ellsworth, Duluth. Voice disguised. Speaker was blase, clipped, except one thing “Hisle was the appetizer and your daughter is the main course.” Is one of the girls more important than the other? Is the chief or Hisle more important?

Mac looked over as the door opened and Sally strolled in. She was carrying a duffel bag. Mac realized that he was beyond scruffy, his hair messed and his clothes dirty, sweaty, and smelly. His girlfriend looked like a million bucks, khaki shorts revealing her shapely, tanned legs, a white, v-neck sleeveless shirt tight to her wonderful breasts, and fiery red hair up in a bouncy ponytail. She greeted him with a big hug and a long, warm kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, looking into his eyes.

“Likewise,” he answered, giving Sally another kiss and holding her for a few minutes. He instantly felt better. “What’s in the bag?”

Sally opened it and handed him a change of clothes, a truly welcome sight. As he went behind the wet bar to clean up, Sally took a look at the whiteboard.

“Inside job?” Sally asked, astonished. Mac explained as he turned on the tap water and waited for it to warm. “Damn, you’re probably right,” she said, shaking her head as Mac splashed water over his face. “What will you do to the person if you find them?”

“Baby, you don’t want to know,” Mac answered as he toweled off his face. “So tell me about your day for a minute, get my mind off mine.”

“Mine was uneventful, but for a friend of mine, holy frickin’ cow,” Sally said, a big smile crossing her face. “Do you remember Homer Snodgrass from law school?”

“He was a gunner,” Mac answered. “He asked way too many questions in class and always thought he had all the answers. Hell, all he was ever doing was quoting from the Emanuels study guides.”

“That might be true.”

“Homer Snodgrass,” Mac chuckled. “I could never understand how parents with the last name of Snodgrass would name their kid Homer.”

“Someone named Lich gave their son the name of Richard.”

“Good point,” Mac answered, zipping up his pants.

“Anyway, Homer’s making millions as a class-action lawyer these days.”

“Figures.”

“Now his day was eventful.”

“Why’s that?”

“Do you remember hearing about that portable heater class action a couple of weeks ago?”

“Vaguely. Wasn’t it something about a flaw in the design causing fires, something like that? Jury awarded something like $20 million?”

“Exactly,” Sally said. “That was Homer. Anyway, it was a bet-the-company case. The company lost, and the owner paid – or tried to pay – Homer a visit over in Minneapolis.

“That couldn’t be good,” Mac said, pulling a fresh white-and-blue striped Adidas golf shirt over his head.

“No, it wasn’t,” Sally replied. “This guy shows up in a trench coat, which on a day like today with the heat, should have been a sign of trouble in and of itself. In any event, he barged past the front desk at the firm. He’s stalking the halls, looking for Homer, and when he sees him,” her eyes lit up, “he starts chasing Homer with an axe – not a hatchet, but a big red fireman’s axe. Can you believe it, with an axe?”

“No way,” Mac said, laughing out loud, a disbelieving smile on his face. “What the hell happened then?”

“Oh shit,” she replied smiling, enjoying the chance to tell the story. “I guess Homer starts running, although where do you go on the forty-fourth floor of the American Financial Tower? But he starts running, goes down a flight of steps, trying to get away from this guy, who’s running after him like a crazed lunatic, waving this axe, yelling ‘I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna kill you.’ People ducking for cover everywhere – it was a zoo.”