Case of the Chatty Roadrunner Page 7
Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to wait for her phone call to figure out who she is and what she wants. Or, better yet, what she has that she thinks I’d want. Maybe it was some dirt on ol’ Emil over there? Perhaps some pictures of one of ye Almighty Upper Class in some type of compromising situation?
Man, I really did watch too many movies.
“How much longer do you want to stay out here?” Jillian asked.
I shrugged, “I really don’t know. I’d like to get Sherlock and Watson over to that small group there, the one with our mystery informant. That’s the only group that the dogs haven’t had a chance to meet. You heard the dogs earlier. Sherlock was woofing like crazy, yet, so far, he’s only singled out one person, and that was the guy in the fancy Italian suit.”
“We’re going to need some type of cover story if you want to wander over that way,” Jillian was saying, as I hooked my arm through hers and led her towards the distant group.
Before I had a chance to respond, the Powers That Be dropped the perfect excuse in my lap. The game of tag had just finished and now three inflatable beach balls were produced. As soon as they were inflated, each group was tossed a ball, and it began to soar through the air as many of the employees smacked it as though they were playing volleyball.
As expected, both corgis watched the proceedings like a hawk. I looked down at the leash I was holding and then over at Jillian. I swear Sherlock knew what I was about to do.
“Zachary, don’t you dare!” she hissed at me.
I grinned at her and timed my move to correspond with the next time the ball went soaring into the air. As soon as Mystery Woman’s group whapped the ball skyward, I loosened my grip on Sherlock’s leash. The canny little corgi felt the slack and immediately took advantage of the situation. He gave a well-timed jerk on the leash and presto, he was loose!
Sherlock yipped excitedly and tore off after the ball. His sharp, piercing barks sounded noisily across the park as he ran full-tilt towards the closest airborne beach ball. Since the participants of the team-building exercise were now wearing bemused expressions on their faces as they watched Sherlock race towards them, and weren’t paying attention to the point of the exercise, which was to keep the ball aloft, the ball started falling to the ground.
Sherlock appeared beneath the ball when it was less than three feet away from striking the ground. The tri-color corgi jumped up, which thrust his nose skyward. The ball rocketed back up into the air, on a direct intercept course with a blonde-haired woman. The lady giggled, clasped her hands together, and whapped the ball back towards Sherlock, only her volleyball skills were substandard. The ball curved west, away from Sherlock, who immediately doubled his efforts to be the one who intercepted the ball first.
A streak of orange and white whipped by me. It was Watson, only how she got away from Jillian remains to be seen. I turned to look back at Jillian for confirmation this was part of the plan, only my girlfriend had a look of helplessness on her face and was holding up both hands in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture.
“Okay, we have some new rules,” a man’s voice was heard shouting.
I glanced over at the small group of Semzar bigwigs and executives and saw that a guy roughly my age, standing next to Emil, was speaking.
“Try to avoid the dogs. If the balls touch the ground, or else the dogs manage to take control of them, then that group is out. Everyone ready? Go!”
There was a mad rush as people clamored forward, intent on getting the ball away from Sherlock, who always seemed to be under someone’s feet. He seemed to know where the ball was going to land, and managed to situate himself before anyone knew what was happening. In fact, it only took about 30 seconds before a member of Mystery Woman’s group (a young guy in his twenties) slipped on a wet portion of grass and landed on his butt. Hard.
Unable to keep the volley going, the ball started falling toward the ground. Sherlock darted between one woman’s legs, maneuvered around a large man wearing a black suit and tie, before reaching the fallen player. What he did next had me gasping with surprise.
Apparently, to better ensure the ball returned to the air, Sherlock decided to give the ball a hearty nudge in the right direction. How did he do that? By jumping onto the young guy’s lap and launching himself into the air by bunching his legs and jumping off of his… his… hoo boy. That was gonna require some recovery time.
The man groaned and immediately cupped the family jewels. He rolled over onto his side and curled up into the ‘fetal’ position. I also noticed wet doggy prints all over the guy’s clothes. Once again, I had to hand it to the corgis. They may be low to the ground, and they may be the smallest breed of herding dog, but man alive, those stumpy legs had some power. From the way the guy was rolling around on the ground, you’d think someone had just stomped on his genitals. Then again, I guess Sherlock kinda did.
I will add, by the way, that it had to be the best jump I’ve ever seen Sherlock execute. He sailed gracefully through the air, with his two tiny front legs stretched out in front of him and his back legs sticking out from behind him, in full Superman pose. He landed nearly ten feet away, and was already en route to the next group. Watson joined him there and together, the two sprinted for the second group, who were staring at the two approaching dogs with slack-jawed looks on their faces.
Twenty seconds later, the dogs moved on to the third group. While I watched the corgis’ hysterical antics, I couldn’t help but wonder how the two of them knew they only had to touch the ball once. It’s like they heard Emil’s explanation of the improvised rules for the game and were acting on it.
In less than two minutes, it was all over. None of the three groups had been able to keep their ball away from the corgis. Although, to be fair, the vast majority of them were still laughing so hard at Mr. Crushed Nuts that any form of communication was lost among them. Panting contentedly, Sherlock and Watson wandered back over to me. In fact, Sherlock circled around me and promptly sat by my right foot, like I had given the ‘heel’ command, which I hadn’t. He knew it, sure, but usually wouldn’t sit by my right foot unless I told him to.
Little showoff.
Shaking my head, I grabbed his leash and saw that Jillian had reclaimed Watson’s. Then I heard the warning woofs from Sherlock and looked up. It would seem good ol’ Emil was headed my way again. I also couldn’t help but notice that Vance had made a complete revolution of the park and was now sitting at a nearby table, pretending to talk on his phone.
“Those are some dogs, Mr. Wadsworth.”
“I’m sorry they interrupted your game,” I began. “These two have to be the smartest dogs I have ever owned. As a result, they always seem to know how to get the better of me. Including, I’m sorry to say, knowing when I’m switching the leash from one hand to the other. That’s how he got away from me.”
“No apologies are necessary,” Emil assured me, with a smile. He turned to his employees, who had started to gather behind us. “Guys and gals, I hope you’re proud of your performance.”
Forty heads began bobbing, and there were a chorus of “Absolutely” and “You bet” coming from all directions.
“That was sarcasm, people. For Heaven’s Sake, you guys just got your asses handed to you by two little dogs! What simple method would have prevented your defeat?”
Crickets chirped noisily nearby.
“Communication, people! What happened to your communication? Is that not why we are all out here in the first place? Without it, we might as well be living in the Stone Age.”
Emil thanked me profusely for participating in their event and then herded the group back towards their office building, which was across the street and about a block north. I tried to make eye contact with Mystery Woman, but she kept her head down and didn’t once look my way. And yes, I know what you’re thinking. I shouldn’t have tried so hard to get her attention. I had no idea if she was truly in danger or not, and now, for all I know, I probably exacerbated the situation. I could o
nly hope that she would call me tonight, at our usual time.
Once the last of the Semzar employees had all gone, Jillian and I wandered over to Vance, who was still sitting at one of the picnic tables. He looked up and hastily pulled his cybernetic earpiece out of his ear.
“Get some good shots?” I asked.
“Could you have been any more subtle?” Vance countered. “Jeez, Zack. We’re trying to keep a low profile here, not draw attention to us.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry.”
“Did the dogs react to anyone?”
Both Jillian and I nodded.
“That older fellow, in the gray suit. His name was ‘Emil’.”
“Emil what?” Vance wanted to know. He was busy scribbling in his notebook.
“It’s, uh, er, it’s Emil… something.”
Vance stared incredulously up at me, “You forget the guy’s name?”
“It’s ‘Gregory’,” Jillian helpfully supplied. Then she giggled at me and slowly pointed down at my left hand. “I do believe you’re still holding his card, are you not?”
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” I muttered, as I opened my hand to reveal the card. “I forgot about that.”
I handed the card to Vance, who tucked it into a side pocket in his notebook.
“At least it was only one person,” I reminded everyone. “We definitely caught a break on that one.”
“That was only about 40 people or so,” Vance returned. “Semzar has over a thousand employees.”
“How do you know that?” I asked, dumbfounded.
Vance held up his phone, “Because it says so on their website.”
“Oh. Damn. That would mean…”
“We are going to need a quicker way to check everyone out,” Vance answered, with a heavy sigh.
FIVE
“For the record, I will say that I tried. I mean, I really really tried to be awake at 3:30am. However, I was no longer a spring chicken. How I ever managed to pull all-nighters back in college continues to floor me. In this case, I figure I made it to about midnight before the book I was reading – propped up in bed – fell to my chest. I know. When the phone woke me up, and I bolted upright, the book was catapulted across the room. It took me a little bit to find my phone (I purposely left it on the night stand) and answer it before the call went to voice mail. Using hands that felt like they were encased in lead (what, had I been laying on them?) I managed to take the call.
“H… hello?”
“Zack? Is this Zachary Anderson?” a female voice softly asked.
I cleared my throat, “Yup.”
“Weren’t you expecting my call?”
By this time, a few lights had finally clicked on upstairs and I realized who must be on the phone. My brain lost its cobwebs and booted up. A glance at the bedside clock confirmed that it was, indeed, 3:30am.
“Yeah. I mean, yes, I was expecting your call. Is this the lady from the hotel?”
“Yes. Don’t you remember me, Zack?”
“Don’t I remember you? Are you telling me that we’ve met before?”
“Yes! On several occasions. I was good friends with Samantha.”
Something about that statement didn’t add up.
“Wait a moment. If you and Sam were such good friends, then why did you wait so long to say anything on the phone? And better yet, how do you even have my cell phone number? I changed the number once I made it to Oregon.”
“I have a friend who works for a major cellular carrier. It just so happened to be the one you and Samantha used. Logic suggested you’d keep using the same service, provided they offered coverage in Oregon. This carrier has the most coverage across the country, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to look you up.”
“So, why did you wait so long to say something?” I repeated, growing angry.
At that moment, the door to the suite’s second room opened and Jillian appeared. An uncertain look appeared on her face, but was quickly dispelled once I tapped the chair beside the bed. She was wearing purple flannel pajamas and her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, was somewhat messed up, but I still thought she looked incredibly fetching.
“You have no idea what I’ve gone through, Zack. Actually, that should be, ‘what I’m currently going through’. I’m afraid for my life. I’m watched all the time. In fact, I’m starting to think there might be people watching me day and night from across the street.”
And I thought I watched too many movies. People don’t really do that, do they? In this day and age? No way. However, my skepticism must have bled through the phone, because my mystery informant started getting defensive.
“Zachary, you have to believe me! With what I know about Semzar Pharmaceuticals, I could probably bring the whole company down. I’m telling you, I have to be careful. I don’t trust anyone.”
“If you’re that worried,” I sputtered, “then why don’t you go to the police? Don’t they offer protection in exchange for incriminating evidence? There’s gotta be something they can do.”
“Something tells me that if I should try going to the police, then I would be silenced. Permanently.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?” I asked, growing concerned. “And tell me your name, would you?”
“If you don’t remember it, then that might be a good thing. For me. Listen, I think I need to go. I’ll be in touch.”
“Wait! You’re sure Semzar Pharmaceuticals had something to do with Samantha’s death?”
“Without a doubt. She was killed because of what she discovered.”
“Huh? She discovered something? What did she discover?”
“I’ll tell you later. Listen, we’ll have to meet again, but not until I can figure out how to do it undetected. I have something I know you’ll want. Until then.”
The call terminated, only I wasn’t any closer to answers than I was before. If anything, I now had more questions, and they were questions I desperately wanted answered. What was this about Samantha discovering something? And whatever it was, was it really worth killing for? I couldn’t even begin to imagine what it could be.
I took Jillian’s hand in my own and we sat there, together, in silence. Jillian, to her credit, didn’t pressure me to start talking. She simply waited.
“That was her,” I finally said.
“I figured it was,” Jillian said. “What did she say?”
“She wouldn’t identify who she was,” I slowly answered. “The only thing she really told me was that she was a good friend of Sam’s, and that apparently, we had met before.”
“Yet, you don’t remember her, do you?” Jillian guessed.
I shook my head, “Nope. I haven’t decided if I should be concerned about that or not.”
“What did she tell you?” Jillian wanted to know.
I took a deep breath and leaned over to give Sherlock a friendly rub on his belly. Since this was the dead of night, Sherlock was out cold. Both he and Watson were on the bed, with Sherlock on his back, all paws up, and Watson snuggled up next to Sherlock. And no, before you ask, it wasn’t that cold in the room. That’s just the way they like to sleep when they’re together.
“Well, let’s see. I first asked her how she even had my cell phone number, since I changed it once I moved to Oregon. She said she had a friend that worked for the cell phone company. I can let that one slide. Then she told me that she was afraid for her life. She was certain she was being watched, and even suggested there was someone across the street watching her at all times.”
“Like a police stakeout?” Jillian asked.
“Exactly,” I nodded. “I then suggested going to the police, but she seemed to think that would make things worse.”
“I’m not sure how,” Jillian admitted. “Go on.”
“Then she told me that she was certain Samantha was killed because she discovered something. Something about Semzar. She wouldn’t say what.”
“Suggesting Semzar Pharmaceuticals has a shady past?”
“And she wouldn’t say what?” Jillian asked. Her concerned expression morphed into a frown. “How cryptic. Do you think she could be leading you on?”
“It’s possible,” I admitted, “but I can’t imagine what her motive would be.”
“Well, what about if she was acting on Semzar’s authority? What if she’s only doing what she was told?”
I shrugged, “It’s possible.”
“Where do we go from here?” Jillian wanted to know.
“I’d say we start doing some research on Semzar. Ol’ Red seems to think...”
“Ol’ Red?” Jillian interrupted, as a look of confusion appeared on her face.
“Oh, sorry. Our mystery informant has red hair, so I kinda nick-named her ‘Red’.”
“I see. You were saying you’d like to do some research? On Semzar?”
I nodded, “Yeppers. I was thinking maybe we could hit up the library.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Jillian said, as she patted my hand encouragingly. She rose to her feet and gave me a gentle kiss goodnight. “I’ll see you in the morning, Zachary.”
The next day, at approximately 9:00am, the two of us walked into one of Phoenix’s many libraries. Their website claimed the Phoenix Public Library consisted of 16 different branches, which boasted a collection of nearly 2 million books, DVDs, CDs, and various media resources. Surely, somewhere in that collection of data was something that would help us figure out why Semzar Pharmaceuticals would want my wife killed. If it was there, I vowed to find it.
“This place is huge,” I remarked, as we walked in the main front doors. “Where do we even start?”
Jillian promptly walked over to a pyramidal kiosk that had illuminated diagrams of each floor of the library. And, for the record, this particular branch had 3. Floors, that is. I told you it was big. Jillian studied the layout of the first floor and then tapped an area roughly northeast from our current location.