Marigold, Part 22

by Vulgar Argot

(MF, anal, contains graphic non-sexual violence)

 

Thule called Matika back once he was on the road, "Can you talk?"

 

"Yes," said Matika, "I'm headed to Mannsborough right now."

 

"What do you know?" Thule asked.

 

"Not much," said Matika, "Jake called me on my cell. Apparently, Randy and Ivan had some kind of fight about Mrs. Vandevoort. Randy left and came back with a gun. Randy shot Ivan. Jake shot Randy. At some point, Randy shot Jake. It's all very confusing."

 

"Is anyone dead?" asked Thule.

 

"No one was when Jake called me," said Matika, "Jake's wound was superficial. He thinks he hit Randy in the stomach. There's some sort of private ambulance up at the estate right now. Jake said there was a lot of blood and Ivan was unconscious by the time the doctor got there."

 

"Where's Randy?" asked Jake.

 

"He slipped out in the confusion," said Matika. There are security teams all over the woods, looking for him.

 

Something clicked in Thule's mind, "Are you saying that the police don't know anything about this?"

 

"Right," said Matika, "They're trying to handle it all privately right now."

 

"Matika," said Thule as calmly as he could, "how soon will you be in Mannsborough?"

 

"Fifteen more minutes," said Matika.

 

"I need you to go up to the estate and see if there are any local police cars up there," said Thule, "Just because they didn't go through official channels doesn't mean that the police don't know. Start calling the team. We need to move on this thing tonight if it's going to happen before Vladi becomes too suspicious to play along."

 

"Thule," said Matika quietly, "there is no team anymore. In order for Anne to get the indictments, we had to make an accounting to the higher ups. We're all on pending administrative action. Only I'm still authorized to have anything to do with this investigation. If any of the others get involved, they'll be kicked out of the Bureau for sure."

 

"Fuck," growled Thule, "the Bureau thinks that this investigation only merits one agent?"

 

"No," said Matika, "they've assigned a team. My partner Anders is leading it. Before you say anything, Thule, he's a good man. He didn't want to believe the rumors about the Vandevoorts, but when the evidence was there for him to see, it made him sick. He's got nearly twenty years of experience in the field. Please, listen to what he has to say."

 

"Fine," said Thule, "tell him to get to my house. We have to move on this."

 

"Thule," said Matika, "he's called off the sting we set up. He wants to go about it a different way."

 

Thule gave an incoherent growl of frustration, "Tell him if he wants my fucking cooperation, he's to be at my house by eight pm. I'll listen to what he has to say. But, if I don't like it, I'm going through with this, with or without the FBI's help."

 

"Thule, I..."

 

"Just tell him," growled Thule, "eight pm." He snapped his phone shut.

 

Thule fumed for a few minutes as he drove. Marigold said, "That didn't sound good."

 

"It was one of the disaster scenarios I played in my head when I had to decide at what point to go to the FBI," said Thule. "So, it's not entirely a surprise."

 

"What exactly happened?" asked Dawn.

 

"The FBI decided to send in a professional to take over this case," said Thule, "He apparently does not care for my plan for tomorrow."

 

"What does he propose instead?" asked Marigold.

 

"I have no idea," said Thule, the anger in his voice barely contained, "He didn't bother to ask my opinion, find out why I made the plans I did, or secure my cooperation. "

 

"Maybe you should try to look at it from his perspective," said Dawn quietly, "He's an experienced FBI field agent. He doesn't know you, except that you're some high school kid playing in his sandbox. Why would he consult you?"

 

Thule bit back an angry retort, looking at Dawn's face in the rear-view mirror. She looked like she was ready to be hit or screamed at for speaking up. He took a deep breath and counted to five before speaking.

 

"I'll give him a chance to explain his perspective," said Thule evenly, "But his actions so far suggest that he's not going to give me the same chance. I've been preparing for this over the last four years. I doubt he's been privy to it for four days. He's making a mistake if he thinks I have nothing to contribute."

 

"You sound mad," observed Dawn.

 

Thule sighed, "I thought I was doing a pretty good job of not sounding mad."

 

Dawn shook her head, "You sounded like you were trying not to sound mad and not doing a very good job of it. That's even scarier."

 

Thule took another deep breath, "Sorry," he said, "I need to not make any decisions when I'm that angry. That's how really awful mistakes get made. Thank you, Dawn."

 

"So," asked Dawn, "if you have to do this without the FBI, does that mean I can help?"

 

Thule winced, "Not if I can help it."

 

"Help with what?" asked Marigold, "What is your plan for tomorrow anyway?"

 

Thule sighed. He'd held off telling Marigold his plan this long and hoped to not have to explain it to her until it was completed, "I need to know where Vladi put June Kane's body. I suspect that there will be more bodies there. Mannsborough High has had an unusually high suicide and runaway rate over the last four years."

 

He took a deep breath before going on, "I've been over a hundred scenarios in my head for this. They all require a corpse. Since neither Randy or Vladi has invited me into their confidence regarding victim disposal and I'd rather not wait until they do, I need to produce one. I could try to get a real one, but I don't even want to think about what sort of response I would get if I tried to acquire a corpse young, fresh, and pretty enough to fool Vladi. I toyed with the idea of actually killing Brianne. But, what I ultimately came up with was this..."

 

Thule took another deep breath before committing to say it, "The plan is to take Matika, have her soak in a bathtub full of ice to bring down her body temperature, then make her up with blue body paint, lipstick, the works, wrap her in a plastic tarp, put her in the trunk and call Vladi over to help me get rid of her. He'll lead me to where he disposes of bodies. Once I know where that is, I can call in the cavalry."

 

"But, Thule," asked Marigold, "Vladi's not going to just stand there while you call for support, is he?"

 

"No," said Thule, "I'm going to have to kill or incapacitate Vladi."

 

"So," asked Marigold slowly, "if Matika won't do it, you're going to use Dawn?"

 

No one spoke. Despite the early summer warmth, Thule felt a chill.

 

Finally, Marigold looked up at him, "Are you sure you couldn't just kill Brianne?"

 

"Mari," said Dawn, "please don't pull rank on me here. I keep..."

 

Marigold shook her head, "As appealing as the idea is, I'm terrified of enclosed spaces. I would have a screaming fit if someone put me in a trunk." Suddenly, and idea dawned on her, "Unless you could chloroform me."

 

"It wouldn't work," said Thule, "I need whoever is in there to be able to hold their breath when I show them to Vladi. Breathing would be a dead giveaway that you're not...you know, dead."

 

Thule's phone rang. A glance at Caller ID told him it was Matika.

 

"There are no police cars up at the estate," she said, "What should I do next?"

 

"Shouldn't you ask your partner?" asked Thule.

 

"He's in transit," said Matika, "He told me to sit tight."

 

Thule sighed, partly in relief, "Keep watching the estate. I need to know if they're going to call Vladi or one of their other cops in."

 

"I'm not sure I can do that," said Matika, "I drove past once, but they've got a ton of guys watching the front gate. I can't just sit across the street and, if I drive by too many times, they're going to figure it out."

 

"How are you at climbing trees?" Thule asked.

 

"Actually, I used to be quite the tomboy," said Matika.

 

Thule explained how to get into his house, where to find the required surveillance equipment, and where his fake duck blind was.

 

"Thule," said Matika, "I want you to listen to what Anders has to say. He has a lot of experience. But, if you're still determined to go through with this, I'm in. But, it may mean the difference between whether or not I have a job when this is all done. So, please listen to him."

 

"All right," said Thule, "I'll listen. But, I can't make any promises."

 

                                  -=-

 

As they pulled into his neighborhood, Thule said, "Dawn, lie down."

 

Dawn did, "Not ashamed of me, are you?"

 

"No," said Thule. "Marigold, take my cell phone off of my belt and hand it to Dawn. Dawn, dial up the number for Matika stored there. Tell her to get to the house as quickly as possible. I'm pretty sure we just passed Randy's car in the woods back there."

 

Dawn dialed and listened, "No answer. It went to voice mail."

 

"Shit," said Thule, "try again."

 

"Still no answer," said Dawn.

 

"Leave a message," said Thule, "Then, call Anne. Tell her to get a hold of Anders and tell him what's going on."

 

As Thule pulled into his garage, he reached into the glove compartment, pulled out the pistol, and said, "We have a couple of minutes at least. Act as natural as possible. Remember. We're not even supposed to know that Randy has been shot. We've been out of town and out of touch all weekend."

 

"What do you think he wants?" Marigold asked.

 

"I don't know," said Thule, "but I don't like any of the options."

 

Inside, Thule said, "If anybody starts shooting, I want you two to get out of there as fast as possible. Run for the woods and don't look back. Call the FBI field office and Jonas. You'll want to stay and help, but you're not going to be much help if he decides to shoot you."

 

The knock came at the door. Thule said, "Get to the back door." Marigold and Dawn stood motionless, so he added emphatically, "Go. If he starts shooting and you don't bolt like a couple of rabbits, I'll..." he sighed, "Just make sure you run."

 

Marigold and Dawn walked to the back door, watching as Thule drew his pistol and went to the front door. Standing to the side, he opened it.

 

"Dule," said Svetlana, "you have to help Randy. He's been shot."

 

She was barely holding Randy up over her shoulder. He seemed barely conscious, but held a sleek, black handgun firmly. He was wearing a gray sweatshirt, soaked through with blood. Her own cream-colored blouse and blue jeans were smeared with it.

 

Thule took Randy over his own shoulder, "Marigold," he said, "there's a big first aid kit under my father's bed. Get it. Dawn, call 911. He needs a doctor."

 

"No 911," said Randy, "and no doctors. I'm fucked up pretty bad, but I'll live if I can get this damned hunk of lead out of me."

 

"There's a lot of blood," said Thule, laying Randy down on his bed, "You really should see a doctor."

 

Randy laughed, wincing as he did, "I need to keep this quiet, Thule. This isn't the first time Vandevoorts have shot each other. I just need to get patched up and get to Amsterdam before this thing blows up. I have...allies in the family there." He winced, "At least, as much as Vandevoorts have other Vandevoorts as allies."

 

As he spoke, Marigold had cut away his shirt and was examining the wound with a small flashlight. Randy looked down at her, "Marigold, would you excuse us?"

 

"I need to get this bullet out," said Marigold.

 

"It's been in there for hours," said Randy, "a few more minutes won't kill me."

 

Marigold frowned, but left the room. Svetlana closed the door behind her.

 

"Thule," said Randy, "things are not going to go as smoothly as I hoped. But, this may be an opportunity. There's been a split in the family for a long time, between the Dutch and the American branches. I think we can reunite both, but you'll need to marry Tryne for that."

 

Thule scowled, "We can discuss that later. Let's get you patched up and on your way to Amsterdam."

 

"We need to discuss it now," said Randy, "I saw you at the prom Friday. I know how much you must really love Marigold. I can even see why. You need to break that off before it goes any farther or you'll never want to marry anyone else." As he spoke, he looked at Svetlana, whose eyes were starting to mist up.

 

"If you marry Tryne," said Randy, "I can build alliances in Amsterdam. I have friends there who want to see the family unified. With you and Tryne in charge of the family here, we could do that."

 

"All right," said Thule, "I'll think about it."

 

"No," said Randy, taking Thule's wrist with the hand that didn't have a gun, "promise me."

 

"All right," said Thule, "I promise. Now, let's get that bullet out of you."

 

Thule opened the door, letting Marigold and Dawn back in. With Dawn assisting, Marigold got set up so that she could work on the wound. As Thule stepped back toward the doorway, Dawn backed up to rest against him and whispered, "Why are we helping Randy?"

 

Thule hugged her from behind, "We're trying to keep him calm until the FBI gets here. He's still got a gun and he's still dangerous. Besides, I want him alive to testify against Ivan."

 

"We should let him die," said Dawn.

 

"That bullet won't kill him," said Thule, "not for a long, long time. He'd get other help before it did."

 

Whatever Marigold was doing to him, Randy cried out in pain.

 

"Easy there," said Thule. He reached for Randy's gun, "You're going to shoot somebody if you're not careful."

 

Randy pulled the gun away from Thule, "I need to protect myself."

 

Thule crouched down, looking concerned, "Do you want something for the pain?"

 

Randy nodded, "Whatever you've got."

 

Thule crouched down in his closet, "I think I've got some...oh, wait. I moved it. Hang on."

 

He came back in with a glass of dark rum and a bottle.

 

"Give me the bottle," said Randy.

 

"Start with the glass," said Thule, handing it to him, "I don't want you so drunk that you can't defend yourself or run for it."

 

Randy nodded, "Good thinking. Always watching my back, aren't you, buddy?" He drank down the glass of rum in three swallows.

 

"You know it," said Thule.

 

"Wow," said Randy, looking at the empty glass, "I must be hurt worse than I thought or else this stuff is really..." A look of realization and betrayal crossed his eyes. He slurred, "Hey, you..." Then, he yawned hugely and was out cold, the gun slipping from his hand and thudding on the floor.

 

Before anyone else could move, Svetlana crouched down and picked up the pistol while pushing Randy's sweat-soaked hair back and kissing him on the forehead, "My poor Randy," she said, "He has had a very hard day."

 

"Thule," said Marigold, "hold him in place. I've almost got it."

 

Thule placed his hands on Randy's ribs and leg, holding him down. Marigold worked a pair of tweezers into the wound, working something inside back and forth. After a few tense minutes, the bullet came free with a sucking sound, fresh red blood oozing out behind it.

 

Marigold waved Svetlana over, indicating a fresh pack of gauze she'd put over the wound, "Hold that in place. If it soaks through, don't pull it away. Just add another pack on top of it. Just, don't let it slip or you'll undo all of the good you're doing." She put her hand on Randy's gun, now in Svetlana's hand, "Let me take that. I'll keep an eye out while you do that."

 

Svetlana looked to Thule, who smiled at her reassuringly. She let go of the gun. Tears of relief were rolling down her face.

 

"Thank you both," said Svetlana, "I told Randy he could count on you."

 

A few minutes later, Thule heard a car pulling up outside and a door slamming shut.

 

"Who is that?" Svetlana asked.

 

Dawn looked out the window, "Older woman, maybe early forties, short blonde hair, navy blue suit."

 

"That sounds like Anne," said Thule, "Marigold, would you take over for Sveta, please? She'll want to meet Anne."

 

Thule and Svetlana went out into the living room to meet Anne. Thule let her in the front door before turning to Svetlana. When he turned, he said, "Sveta, Anne is investigating the Vandevoorts. She'd like to talk to you about some of Ivan's..."

 

Svetlana's face had gone white with rage. He hand flew up to slap Thule. Thule caught her wrist. She reached up with the other hand, slapping him on the as-yet unmarked side of his face. Then, she pulled away and bolted for the back door.

 

"Much better," said Thule, rubbing his cheek. Anne looked like she was going to give chase. He put a hand on her shoulder, "Let her go. I doubt she's done anything you can hold her for and she might come around. Randy's in the bedroom."

 

As they walked in, Marigold was taping fresh gauze onto the wound.

 

"Is he...?" Anne asked, hand flying to her mouth.

 

"No," said Thule, "he's unconscious. I gave him a cocktail of rum and Rohypnol. We'll want to get him to a doctor soon, though. I couldn't afford to be too subtle with the dosage. If you take him to a doctor in the area, there's a chance you could get him killed. Is there a staff physician at the field office in New York?" Anne nodded.

 

"Great," said Thule, "that will get him out of danger and give me time to get what I need to do done before anyone is the wiser. He may come to before you get there, though. What are you driving?"

 

"My minivan," said Anne, "I came straight from home."

 

"All right," said Thule, "we'll have to secure him there. He might wake up between here and there. Take his gun in case...Where's his gun?"

 

Marigold looked around, "I must have put it down when I was working on his wound. I guess Svetlana picked it up."

 

"Well," said Thule, "at least she didn't shoot me. We'll just have to make sure he's well secured. Marigold, is he ready to travel?"

 

Marigold nodded, "as ready as I can make him."

 

Thule carried Randy out to Anne's minivan. With Dawn and Marigold's help, he secured Randy's legs to the back seat. Dawn took out her borrowed handcuffs and secured Randy's wrists to the other side of the seat before handing Anne the keys.

 

"Try to bring those back if you can," she told Anne, "I may still have a use for them."

 

"Maybe I should wait for Anders," said Anne uncertainly.

 

"I don't know how long Randy is going to stay out," said Thule. "You'll want to get moving. Besides, I need you to do this for me, Anne. If Anders isn't here when you leave, he can't give you any orders you'd have to disobey in order to help me."

 

Anne looked like she was going to say something. Thule said, "I know you want to help me or you wouldn't be here. I'd rather it didn't cost your job."

 

Anne shook her head, "Thank you, Thule, but I'm pretty sure none of us, with the possible exception of Matika, are going to have jobs after this, one way or another. I know John and Helene are ready to follow you to the gates of hell and I suppose that I am, too. Just tell me what you want and I'll tell them."

 

Thule nodded, "You have no idea how much I appreciate that. Tell them I expect to move tonight and to be ready. I'll talk to Anders, but I doubt he'll be amenable to working with me."

 

Anne nodded, "I suspect you're right. He's very 'by the book.' I'll let the others know." She kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair as best she could before getting into her van and driving off.

 

While he was still standing on the lawn, Thule's phone rang. It was Matika.

 

"Thule," she said unevenly, "I need help."

 

"Where are you?" asked Thule.

 

"I'm not sure," said Matika, "one of Ivan's goons took a shot at me as I was coming down from the blind. I think I got him, but I also think I broke my ankle when I fell. I'm in a lot of pain and not sure how long I'm going to stay conscious this time."

 

"What do you see around you?"

 

Matika paused long enough that Thule thought she might have passed out. Then, she began to describe the scene. When she mentioned a stream, Thule interrupted her, "I know where you are. Stay put and call Anders."

 

"Thule, I'm sorry," said Matika, "I called Anders first. He told me to call you, since you probably know the terrain better."

 

"No, you did the right thing," said Thule. "Hang tight. I'll be there as soon as I can. Give me Anders's number."

 

She recited it. Thule repeated it back to her for confirmation. Then, he said, "I need to get off the line for a few minutes. Will you be okay?"

 

Matika gave a pained chuckle, "Thule, I am an FBI field agent. I'll manage."

 

"Okay," said Thule, "hang tight."

 

Thule went into the house, quickly explaining where he was going as he changed into black clothes.

 

"Dawn," he said, "call Jake. Make sure he can speak freely before you say too much. Ask him to come down here and bring guns for you two if he can."

 

Dawn nodded. Thule took her and Marigold into his arms and kissed them both.

 

"Leave the bed the way it is," said Thule, "Don't wash or destroy the bedspread. I'm going to be using it to add credibility tonight. Once Jake is here, go to town and buy a half dozen bags of ice. I'll be back as soon as I can.

 

In his car on the way over, Thule dialed the number Matika had given him.

 

"Agent Harter," said Anders when he answered the phone.

 

"Agent Harter, this is Thule Roemer. I'm on my way to where your partner is. How close are you?"

 

"I'm in Mannsborough, headed towards the Vandevoort estate," said Anders, "But, I have no idea where the fuck I'm going."

 

Thule described the route Anders needs to take. Anders said, "Got it. What the fuck was she doing out in the middle of the woods anyway?"

 

"There's a platform I built out there that has a clear view of the Vandevoort estate. She was watching the estate."

 

Thule heard Anders give a sharp intake of breath. When he spoke, it was obvious that he was trying to control his anger. He said evenly, "Kid, if anything happens to her, you'll regret it."

 

"I don't need you to tell me that, Agent Harter," said Thule, "You'll want to be careful out in those woods. They're probably still crawling with Vil Umanski's men."

 

"And I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, Mr. Roemer," Anders said, breaking the connection.

 

"Prick," said Thule before putting his phone back.

 

By the time he reached the pull-off, there were already two cars there. He hoped they were Matika and Anders's. Drawing his gun out of his waistline, he clicked the safety off and headed to the platform at a trot.

 

As he neared the tree, he saw a figure in black lying supine on the path. A quick glance made checking for a pulse unnecessary. The man had an absurdly-neat bullet hole in his forehead and a look of surprise on his face. Bracing himself, Thule took the M-16 from the man's grip and the pistol from his holster. Slinging the automatic rifle over his back, he kept one pistol in each hand as he moved up the path. When he reached where he expected Matika to be, he saw another figure in black crouched by a rock.

 

Thule dropped into firing position, "Freeze," he shouted, "flat on the ground."

 

"Pick one, kid," said the figure in black, "Personally, I'd rather finish patching up my partner's ankle so we can get the hell out of here."

 

"Agent Harter," said Thule, "so nice to finally meet your back. We need to get out of here. Our cars are at the most likely point of egress from this part of the woods. Any team coming out is bound to see them."

 

Anders looked over his shoulder to say something, but interrupted the thought, "Jesus Christ, kid. Were you going for Rambo or Chow Yung Fat and do you even know how to use those things?"

 

"Some day, if we have time," said Thule, "I'll be happy to show you what I know."

 

"All right," said Anders, "Now that you're here, I'm going to carry her to the car, then. I'm trusting you to cover me."

 

Thule led the way back to the cars, vaguely disappointed that no one came after them or took a shot. Driving out, he led them the slightly longer way down the other side of the mountain and around to his house, so that they wouldn't have to pass the Vandevoort estate again. By the time they got to the house, Matika was conscious again and able to hobble inside by leaning on Anders's shoulder.

 

"Whose car is that?" asked Anders.

 

"Jake's," said Thule. "He's an ally. I asked him to come by and protect the girls."

 

"I don't think so," said Anders. "I saw that car outside of the Vandevoort estate."

 

"I know," said Thule, "He also helped us set up the sting with Brianne. He's on our side."

 

"You were involved in that?" asked Anders, standing upright. Matika stumbled and almost fell before both men caught her and carried her the rest of the way.

 

Inside, Jake was standing in the living room explaining some aspect of firing a pistol. Marigold and Dawn both had pistols of their own and were copying his action, meaning that all three were facing Thule's bedroom.

 

When the front door burst open, all three pivoted to face it, Jake dropping into firing position.

 

"Jesus Christ," said Anders, "are you running some sort of apocalyptic cult here?"

 

"I'll give you a pamphlet later," Thule deadpanned. He turned to Matika, "Let's get you prone and get some blankets over you. I don't want you going into shock."

 

Anders started to walk towards Thule's bedroom. Thule said, "No, not in there. But, Anders had already seen something that interested him."

 

"Mother of God," he exclaimed, "did you butcher a pig in here?"

 

"No," said Thule, still standing in the middle of the living room, supporting Matika, "that's Randy Vandevoort's blood." He led Matika into Dawn's room.

 

Anders followed close behind, "What the fuck is going on here? If that's Randy Vandevoort's blood, where the fuck is he?"

 

"He's on his way to your New York branch office," said Thule, "Anne is taking him."

 

"Anne from legal?" asked Anders. "She was ordered..."

 

"She decided this was more important than her orders," said Thule quietly.

 

Anders scowled at Thule as Marigold shouldered past him with the first aid kit, "A lot of good people are going to lose their jobs because of you, Roemer."

 

"I know," said Thule, sighing. "I didn't want it to work out like this." He sat down on the opposite side of the bed from Matika, "Agent Nazarov tells me you have a different idea for getting Vladi to tell us where the bodies are buried. I'm willing to listen to what you have to say."

 

Anders glared at him, "I would think it would be simple. Show him the video you took. You've got him dead to rights. Grant him a deal if he cooperates. We do it all the time."

 

"It won't work," said Matika from the bed.

 

Anders looked at her, "What? Why won't it work?"

 

"Something bothered me about it from the start," said Matika. "I talked to Anne about it and we figured it out. Right now, we've got him maybe on rape charges. But, without a body, we've got nothing else. He's a cop, Anders. He's going to figure that out. Do you really think he's  going to turn over a bunch of bodies and expose himself to prosecution on multiple murders in order to protect himself from a single count of rape? It just doesn't make sense."

 

"Anne said this?" asked Anders.

 

Matika nodded, "Yes."

 

"We don't know there's more than one corpse or that this cop will take Roemer to the same place," said Anders.

 

"I'm betting there are and he will," said Matika. "I can name at least six girls I would bet my eye teeth are buried there."

 

"Shit," said Anders, "it makes sense. Now what?"

 

"Listen to Thule," said Matika. "His plan is a good one."

 

"No," said Anders. "It's too dangerous and puts too many civilians at risk. The Bureau would never approve something like that."

 

"It's not a Bureau operation," said Thule. "I'm doing it with or without your help. As soon as it gets dark, I'm calling Vladi. Once he shows me where to bury Dawn, I'll call you with the GPS coordinates. You can do what you want with them."

 

"Or," said Thule, standing face-to-face with the older man, "you can arrest me now. Those are your choices."

 

"I have a better idea," said Matika. "You two can drop your pants and we'll settle this with a ruler."

 

Marigold tried to turn her head so that Thule wouldn't see her laughing. Thule unpuffed his chest and took a step back, "I'd like to have you watching my back," he said quietly. "Matika says you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing and really know what you're doing."

 

Anders glared at him for a few seconds, but couldn't maintain it. "Fine," he growled. "Nobody I work with is going to have a job after this anyway. Why should I? I can still retire with a seventy-five percent pension if I have to. What do you need from me?"

 

"Hang on," said Thule, "I'll get my maps."

 

                                    -=-

 

"Jesus Fucking Christ," shrieked Dawn from the bathroom.

 

"It sounds like she's being murdered in there," said Jake.

 

Thule shook his head, "They're just adding ice to the bath. She needs to be cold when I show her to Vladi." As he spoke, he unfolded the area map he'd brought out. There were two wide circles drawn centered on Mannsborough. He said, "According to the timestamp on the camera, Vladi left with June Kane at four oh five pm. He checks back in with dispatch at eleven twenty. Assuming he didn't stop to have dinner with a dead girl in his trunk and didn't want to risk speeding too much even in a squad car and giving him one to two hours to dispose of the body, I figured out that his destination should be within these two bands. Obviously, this is not an exact science, but it should give us a rough idea of where we're headed."

 

Anders nodded. He didn't look impressed, but he had stopped scowling.

 

"Obviously," said Thule, "most of the circle can be ruled out because it falls over water or crosses into Canada. Of what's left, I think this area is the most likely." Thule pointed to the map.

 

"The Pine Barrens," said Matika. "That makes sense. There would be a lot of places to hide a body down there."

 

"It seems a little too obvious," said Anders, frowning. "What about upstate? They wouldn't have to cross state lines, then. It would be safer."

 

"I considered upstate," said Thule. "But, it seems like there's a long history of dumping bodies in New Jersey. I've never heard of anyone doing it upstate. I had to pick some place that was more likely. I picked the Pine Barrens."

 

Anders grunted noncommittally.

 

Thule ignored him, "I want you to head down to the northernmost point. There's a town here called Keyes. Wait there for my call. Once I have the coordinates, I'll let you know."

 

"What if it turns out that you're wrong?" said Anders. "If it turns out to be upstate, I'll be at least six hours out of position."

 

"Well," said Thule, "if you think that upstate is more likely, head that way. If it turns out to be New Jersey, you'll still be six hours out of position."

 

Anders stared at the map. Making a decision, he said, "I'll get my team in position in Keyes."

 

"Thank you," said Thule. "You might also want to consider calling John, Anne, and Helene. They still want to help with this."

 

Anders looked at him, "I want to keep them in reserve. I'll take four people from my team to Keyes. I'll leave two in New York with those three. If it turns out you went upstate, they'll move in that direction while we catch up and coordinate."

 

Thule considered protesting, but instead nodded, "Fair enough," he said, "You should get moving. I'll call Vladi in about two hours."

 

Anders nodded. At the front door, he said, "Be careful, kid."

 

After he had closed the door, Thule turned to Matika, "If he calls me 'kid' one more time, I swear to God I'm going to shoot him."

 

Matika laughed, "Don't take it too personally. He still calls me kid, too. I think it's meant affectionately."

 

"Maybe with you, it's meant affectionately," said Thule. "I'm pretty sure he wants to take a swing at me."

 

"I doubt that," said Matika, "on account of the fact that you're still standing. Anders is seriously by the book because any time he varies from the script and has to make judgment calls, he becomes Mr. Poor Impulse Control. There were a few times I was sure he was going to haul off and clock you. You really know how to push your luck."

 

"That," said Thule, "is one of my few skills in which I have no doubt."

 

Marigold stuck her head out of the bedroom, "She's ready for the make-up."

 

Thule nodded, "Jake, keep watch, please. Matika, if you could help us apply the makeup, we can get this done faster."

 

In the bedroom, Dawn sat in her black bathrobe, wet and shivering. Thule brought in a tub of blue body makeup.

 

"How are you doing?" asked Thule.

 

"F-f-freezing," said Dawn.

 

"I know," said Thule, "It's necessary, I'm afraid. I don't trust my ability to make it look like I shot you. You need to look and feel drowned."

 

"I know," said Dawn. She slid her robe off of her shoulders, "Let's get the makeup on."

 

Thule took a double finger-full of the makeup and ran it up Dawn's belly, pushing her down so that she lay flat on her back.

 

"Don't be shy," said Thule. "I don't need this thing going wrong because we were afraid to apply makeup."

 

Matika looked down at her blue fingers, "Maybe I should let you two apply the makeup and help Jake keep watch."

 

Dawn looked up at her, "Matika, time is really of the essence here. If you're not comfortable, stay in the safe areas. But, we really need to get this done."

 

Thule nodded. He was about to make a comment about how brave Dawn was being when he noticed a devilish smirk on her face that Matika couldn't see. He shook his head, chuckling. If Dawn could find some amusement in this process, he wasn't going to stop her.

 

They were about a half hour into the application when Marigold said, "We've got a problem."

 

Dawn looked up through half-lidded eyes, "What?"

 

Marigold said, "There's no way to do your belly button properly. If I get the makeup down in there, it's going to irritate the hell out of your piercing, maybe cause an infection."

 

"All right," said Thule, "There's nothing we can do for that. I'll just have to cover her so that it doesn't show."

 

"What if Vladi decides he needs to see that part?" asked Dawn.

 

"Then, I'll have to shoot him," said Thule darkly.

 

Once the initial coat of makeup was applied, it was necessary to smooth it in and even it out. There was no way to do it but through deep rubbing. A few minutes after the three of them started rubbing, Dawn started giggling.

 

Thule smiled, "Get it out of your system now. Giggling later would be disastrous."

 

Dawn nodded. She giggled a while longer, but eventually quieted down. Then, she started to gasp a little.

 

Dawn had been right. Time was of the essence. But, he still had to say, "Matika, if you'd like to let Marigold and me finish this..."

 

"No," said Matika. "As long as it's okay with Dawn, I'll stay and finish."

 

Dawn, who had started to writhe, nodded emphatically, eyes shining.

 

"All right," said Thule. He glared at Dawn with mock severity, "But, no undulating for you."

 

"I'm just trying to get it out of my system," she said breathily.

 

Thule shook his head. In order to change the focus, he asked, "Matika, something has been bothering me. Do you have any idea why those guys would want to shoot at you? I mean, they're just supposed to be security guards. Openly shooting an FBI agent generally wouldn't be Vil Umanski's style."

 

"I don't know," said Matika. "I wonder if they even were Vil Umanski's men."

 

"Why do you say that?" asked Thule.

 

"Well, there were a lot of them," said Matika. "Even with the party, I counted only eighteen security guards on the grounds. I counted at least thirty of them leaving the estate while I was up the tree. Besides, Umanski's guys drive around in those cars with the logos on them and wear gray uniforms. These guys had unmarked cars and wore black."

 

Thule frowned, "Keep working on that makeup." He went into the living room.

 

"Jake," he said, "do you know if Vil Umanski ever uses guys in unmarked cars and black uniforms?"

 

Jake shook his head, "Nope. Those are the General's men."

 

"The General?" asked Thule.

 

"Russian guy," said Jake, "a relative of Jonas's, I think. He comes by the house a lot, brings an entourage, like a rock star. I don't know what he and Ivan talk about. They always speak Russian."

 

"What's his name?" asked Thule.

 

Jake shrugged, "I don't know. Everybody just calls him the General."

 

Thule was still contemplating the new mystery when Jake gasped, "Holy fuck."

 

Thule turned around. Dawn was standing there in her black robe. Her skin was bluish all over, her lips blue, her eyes sunken and dark, her hair wet and bedraggled. Over her left eye, a realistic head wound had been added with stage blood.

 

"How do I look?" she asked.

 

"Dead," said Jake, "I'm going to have nightmares for a month from this."

 

"All right, folks," said Thule. "This is the zero hour. If anyone has anything to add, now's the time. Otherwise, I want the three of you to head to Jonas's house and wait there."

 

"Be careful," said Marigold. She went to hug Dawn, but Thule caught her by the shoulder.

 

"It's better if nobody touch her at this point," he said. "We don't want to smear anything."

 

Marigold nodded and hugged him fiercely, then kissed him twice as fiercely on the mouth, "Give that to her for me once this is over."

 

Thule nodded. He turned to Jake, "I don't know what the hell's going on in this town tonight, but it would take a huge weight off my mind if you'll stay with Jonas and Marigold until I get back." He turned to Matika, "You, too."

 

Jake nodded, "The wife is staying with family in Cambridge. So, I don't even need to call anyone."

 

"Great," said Thule. "Get going, then."

 

They filed out, Marigold looking over her shoulder at them as she pulled the door closed. Thule smiled reassuringly at her.

 

Alone, Thule turned to Dawn, "Go get your bathing suit on and we'll get started."

 

"Why do I need a bathing suit?" asked Dawn.

 

"This is going to be uncomfortable enough without you having to be naked," said Thule.

 

"But, why would I be wearing my bathing suit in the tub?" asked Dawn.

 

Thule shrugged, "I could have drowned you in the pool."

 

"Thule," said Dawn, "your pool is dry and, besides, I don't smell like chlorine."

 

Thule sighed, "I'm packing a duffel bag with clothes, chemical hand and foot warmers, flares, and a few other things you may need if you and I get separated for any reason. In the top of that bag, I'm also packing a clear rag and a bottle of chloroform. If you feel yourself starting to panic, pour some in the rag, hide the bottle, then press the rag to your nose and breathe deep. Try to focus on getting the rag away from your face before you go unconscious. As much as you can, keep your mouth near the hole you drilled."

 

"It broke my heart to drill that hole," said Dawn, "but I should be able to putty it up pretty well after this is over."

 

Thule nodded, "That will be good."

 

"Well," said Dawn, "let's get this over with."

 

"We've got a few minutes, yet," said Thule. "I don't want to do this until it's dark."

 

"Thule," asked Dawn, "are you scared?"

 

Thule shook his head, "No. I'm too numb to be scared right now. I'll be scared later."

 

"Well," said Dawn, "I'm terrified."

 

"We can still call it off if..."

 

"No," said Dawn, "it needs to be done, doesn't it?"

 

"Yes," said Thule, "I guess it does."

 

"Well, then..." said Dawn.

 

"Dawn," said Thule quietly, "I want you to know that, whatever happens, I love you."

 

Dawn lowered her head, "You're just saying that because I'm dead."

 

"No," said Thule, "I'm saying it because it's true."

 

Dawn grimaced in frustration, "It's so unfair of you to say that when I can't cry or kiss you."

 

"I'm sorry," said Thule. "I just didn't know when I would get another chance."

 

"Did you decide this just now?" asked Dawn quietly.

 

"No," said Thule, "I think I knew when Marigold asked me this weekend. It wouldn't have been right to tell her before I told you."

 

"I love you too," said Dawn. She reached out and hugged him gently.

 

Thule nodded, hugging her back, "It's time to get in the trunk."

 

Dawn smiled, "The words every girl wants to hear."

 

In the garage, Thule put a duffel bag into the trunk. Then, he laid the bloody bedspread inside. Dawn climbed in on top of it, letting Thule wrap her up so that only her nose and eyes showed.

 

"Okay," said Thule, "from this point on, you're dead." Dawn did not respond.

 

Thule picked up a hoe, wielded it, and shattered the single, bare light bulb, bathing the garage in darkness. Then, he went in the house. Picking up his landline, he dialed the phone number Vladi had given him.

 

"Vladi," he said, sounding near hysteria, "fuck, man. I called Randy and he said you could help me. I killed her man. I just meant to scare her, oh shit."

 

Vladi said calmly, "It's all right. Who is this?"

 

"It's Thule," said Thule, panting. "Randy said you could help me."

 

"Maybe I can," said Vladi. "Tell me what happened."

 

"This girl, Dawn," said Thule, "I've been letting her live her for, you know." He sniffed, "Well, tonight, she started talking crazy...said she'd been spying on Randy and had some proof that he killed June Kane. I...I got so mad, I drowned her. I just meant to scare her, but there was so much blood..."

 

"All right," said Vladi. "I can help. Where is she now?"

 

"I...I put her in the trunk," said Thule. "She's in my car. I...I'm home."

 

"All right," said Vladi again. "Just sit tight. I'll be there as soon as I can."

 

"Thanks," said Thule, catching his breath. "I owe you big time, man. I owe you my life."

 

Vladi laughed and Thule could hear the anticipation in the laughter. He imagined the cop already had a favor in mind for when Thule could make good the debt he was incurring. He said, "I'll be there in like ten minutes. Don't worry about it, man. You called exactly the right man."

 

Thule hung up the phone. He allowed himself one satisfied smile before painting the worry back on his face.

 

                           -=-

 

Vladi glanced at Dawn in the darkness  for maybe a half second before slamming the trunk shut. For how much he looked, she could have been fully dressed and her makeup applied in ten minutes. Apparently, he was so anxious to get Thule into his debt, it was making him incautious. Thule frowned a little to himself. No one appreciated good craftsmanship anymore.

 

Vladi said, "Do you know how to get to the Garden State Parkway from here?"

 

"Yeah," said Thule, "yeah. I do."

 

"Okay," said Vladi. "Get on it going south. And, get comfortable. We've got a long drive ahead of ourselves."

 

"How long?" asked Thule.

 

"Three hours if traffic is good," said Vladi. "Whatever you do, don't speed. But, don't go too slow, either. How long has she been dead?"

 

"Less than an hour," said Thule.

 

"If we're lucky," said Vladi, "she won't start to stink too much before we get there. When it's a little bit hotter or they've been dead for a while, they smell like dead fish by the time we get there."

 

Thule was torn between letting the enormity of what Vladi had just revealed go past and looking like he was deliberately not responding. He decided to give a moderate response.

 

"You've done this before?" Thule asked.

 

Vladi nodded, "Yeah, once or twice. I'm kind of Randy's go to guy in the force. Now that you're going to be his right hand man, I'm you're go to guy, too."

 

Thule took out a cigarette with shaking fingers, "Well, you're a real fucking life saver tonight."

 

Vladi shrugged, "I'm surprised you couldn't handle this yourself. A resourceful guy like you, I would have thought you'd have a contingency plan for this sort of thing."

 

Thule laughed nervously, "I'll have one next time. I just didn't expect to have to kill anyone this soon."

 

"Tell me about it," said Vladi. "I was on the force like a week the first time I had to make one of these trips."

 

Thule was amazed. He had hoped to draw Vladi out about this, but the man was just spilling his guts unprompted. All Thule had to do was listen and smoke cigarette after cigarette to represent his very real nervousness.

 

"Find some place to pull over," said Vladi after they had gotten off the Parkway, off the interstate, and on to a county road, "I've got to drain the lizard."

 

Thule said, "Sounds good. I want to get some more cigarettes, too." About ten minutes later, he spotted a combination gas station, convenience store, and bait shop. As he pulled in, he read the sign. It said, "Keyes Gas and Go."

 

Thule tensed up a little. There was almost no town of Keyes to speak of. Besides the Gas and Go, there was a post office and maybe a half-dozen houses. He began to surreptitiously look around for any sign of FBI agents. Seeing none, he stepped into the Gas and Go. There, sitting at the counter and drinking coffee, was Anders. He didn't even break in his monologue with the cashier when he saw Thule walk in. He also gave no look of recognition.

 

Of course, to Thule, Anders looked every inch the FBI man--tall, crew cut, black pants, t-shirt, and vest, black aviator sunglasses. Thule wanted to scream at him to get away from the place. Instead, he walked calmly back to the bait section and picked out a styrofoam cup full of live minnows. Then, he went to the front counter, bought two packs of cigarettes and the bait.

 

Once he got back to the car, he drained the water from the minnows and tossed the cup on the floor behind his seat. Reaching around, he shoved the cup out of sight.

 

When he looked up, Vladi was coming back from the bathroom at a trot.

 

"Drive," said Vladi. "Be casual about it, but get us out of here."

 

Thule drove out of the parking lot. Once he was about a mile away, he said, "What's up?"

 

"I ran into a cop back there," said Vladi, "a real ball buster, local guy. Thinks he's king shit. Gave me a real hard time last year. I didn't want to give him any excuses to make trouble today. Besides," he sniffed the air, "that girl's starting to stink. I didn't want anybody to catch wind of it and start asking questions."

 

After another twenty minutes, there was nothing to see on either side of the road but trees. Vladi said, "We're coming to a side street soon. It doesn't have a name, but it's paved. It'll be on your left."

 

Thule found it, turning onto it. For about ten minutes, it went uphill. There were a few dilapidated houses that no one had bothered to board up out here. A few had collapsed. More seemed to be held up solely by the kudzu that had grown up over them. As the road topped out and started on a decline, the houses disappeared all together as did the paving.

 

"Turn left here," said Vladi.

 

"Where?" asked Thule. "There's no road."

 

Vladi pointed, "between those two trees."

 

Thule turned, driving slowly now. There was no road, only two old ruts surrounded by greenery. The only sound was the car's engine and the distant chirp of cicadas.

 

"Take it slow," said Vladi. Thule didn't know how he could take it any slower and not stall. Then, all of a sudden, he saw what the caution was about. He was on the edge of a deep precipice. He gasped and hit the brakes.

 

"Turn right," said Vladi. "There's an old service road that leads down into the quarry."

 

Thule now saw that this was, indeed, a quarry. As he found the steep road down, he could see that there was a huge pit, the bottom of which was filled with murky, brownish red water so wide that he almost couldn't see the other side.

 

"What the hell is this place?" he asked.

 

"Strip mine," said Vladi. "It's one of the oldest properties in the Vandevoort portfolio. They bought it back in the 1800s for pig iron. It ran out in the 1930s. That water's like a thousand feet deep. You could kill the whole town of Mannsborough, sink them in there, and no one would be the wiser."

 

"How many bodies do you think are down there?" asked Thule.

 

Vladi shrugged, "Dozens. This is my ninth trip here and they were using it before I joined the force. Plus, we're not the only ones who use it."

 

"We're not?" asked Thule.

 

"No," said Vladi. "Ivan has friends that occasionally need to make things disappear. We've got the bottomless quarry. It's a match made in heaven."

 

As they got to the bottom, Vladi got out of the car. As Thule fumbled to unlock the trunk, he asked, "So, what do we do?"

 

Vladi said, "We weigh her down with rocks and drop her in."

 

Thule reached past Vladi, pulling the shovel out of the trunk, "So, I guess I won't need this."

 

Mentioning the shovel was a mistake. Vladi turned to see what Thule was talking about just as Thule swung it around. It should have hit him solidly in the back of the head. Instead, it struck a glancing blow off the side. Cursing, Vladi reeled backwards.

 

Thule reached for his gun, but Vladi was faster, pulling his clear of the holster before Thule could get his out. He screamed, "Drop it, motherfucker."

 

Thule dropped his gun. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw motion from the trunk. Knowing he had just seconds before Vladi shot him, he fell to his knees. Vladi tracked him with the gun.

 

"Please," Thule blubbered, "please don't kill me. I didn't mean it. Please."

 

Vladi looked puzzled and disgusted for a second. Then, he raised his pistol again. Thule threw himself at Vladi's feet, shrieking, "Please." Vladi stepped back in alarm and disgust.

 

Thule looked up just in time to see Dawn rising like a naked, blue avenging angel from the trunk, rag in hand. Her other arm wrapped around Vladi's chest and she sank her teeth into his neck. Vladi shrieked and tried to spin Dawn off, but she held on with hands and teeth.

 

Vladi fired his pistol, but it went wild. Thule went up on his knees and, calling on all of his training in martial arts and unarmed combat, punched Vladi in the nuts as hard as he could. The cop crumbled, but still Dawn held on. Vladi was obviously woozy, but managed to slam back against the car, finally dislodging Dawn and the chloroformed rag.

 

Thule punched him in the face. Vladi started to rise. Thule punched him again. Dawn rolled under the car out of the way. Thule launched himself, shoulder-first into the back bumper of the car, then grabbed Vladi by the hair and slammed his head back against the car as hard as he could. Vladi tried to get purchase on Thule's hair, but found none. Dawn darted out from under the car far enough to sink her teeth into Vladi's wrist. Vladi shouted in pain and dropped his gun. Dawn grabbed for it, but succeeded only in sending it off into the sunken quarry with a skitter and a plop.

 

In a rage, Vladi wrapped his arms around Thule's ribs, pinning one of his arms. Thule dimly remembered now that Vladi had been on the wrestling team in high school as he started to feel his sight start to black out from lack of oxygen. Striking out desperately with his free arm, Thule managed to find Vladi's eye by feel and drive his thumb deep into the socket.

 

Vladi roared in pain and rage, releasing Thule. As he staggered backwards, Thule struck out with both hands, boxing the older man's ears. Vladi staggered backwards.

 

Thule punched Vladi in the nose. Seemingly in slow motion, the man tumbled backwards, landing head and shoulders over the edge of the quarry. Thule leapt down on him, wrapping his hands around Vladi's neck. He wondered idly why he'd never noticed before that Vladi had a neck like a bull. He could barely get his hands around it.

 

Thule didn't need to choke the man, though. He just needed to get Vladi's head under water. Then, he realized that he had badly underestimated the distance from the edge of the quarry to the water's surface. Even pushing Vladi as far as he would go, only the top of his head was submerged. Thule drove the heel of one hand as hard as he could into Vladi's chin, snapping his head back. Vladi had gotten his nightstick out and was flailing ineffectually at Thule's back and shoulders with it, unable to get a good angle.

 

Thule drove into Vladi's chin again and again, keeping the big man stunned. It wasn't going to win him the fight, though. He doubted he could break Vladi's neck, even if he had a tire iron.

 

"Thule," yelled Dawn. He looked up. She was holding the cross-shaped lug wrench out to him. Thule reached out for it, barely catching hold as Vladi bucked under him with a roar. Thule released his neck, letting his head come up just as Thule brought the wrench down across his nose.

 

The first blow was awkward. Thule's hand was slick with sweat and he barely had a grasp on one end of the wrench. The second blow was solid, but Vladi bucked his hips, knocking Thule off-balance. Vladi started to rise and Thule was falling backwards the third time he connected, a blow made more out of desperation than technique. Vladi fell backwards, the wrench sliding out of Thule's hand and following Vladi's gun into the water below. Thule leapt up, turning to Dawn, "Where's my gun?"

 

"Under the car," said Dawn, "I couldn't reach it."

 

Thule reached into his pocket and handed her his keys, "Pull the car forward."

 

Dawn took the keys, "Is he dead?"

 

"No," said Thule, "he's stunned. Go."

 

Far too soon, Thule saw Vladi shaking his head and starting to rise. Cursing himself for packing the clothes on top, Thule dug through the duffel bag he'd packed for Dawn, looking for the flare gun. With another roar of rage, Vladi threw himself at Thule. If he hadn't roared, Thule wouldn't have been able to leap out of the way. As it was, he barely did so, sidestepping, spinning around and shoving Vladi with both hands in the direction he wanted to go. Vladi ducked to avoid hitting his head on the trunk. Thule reached up and slammed it down on him, once, twice, three times before the car lurched forward, sending Vladi sprawling onto the hard ground, right next to the now-exposed gun. Thule leapt, catching the gun as Vladi caught his ankle.

 

"Lay flat!" screamed Thule, bringing the gun up to cover Vladi, "Lay flat now!"

 

Vladi crouched to rise, ignoring Thule's instruction. Thule screamed again, "On your belly, Vladi!"

 

Vladi launched himself at Thule. Thule fired at his head. The big man stumbled backwards, a red hole appearing in his forehead. Then, he began to sway forward. Thule lowered the gun to chest height and fired three more shots into Vladi's chest. For a terrifying moment, Vladi stood suspended in midair, the momentum of his forward charge and the bullets in sickening equilibrium. Then, he crumbled to his knees and fell backwards.

 

Dawn came racing out of the car. Thule caught her in his arms, burying her face in his chest. "Don't look," he whispered.

 

Dawn pulled away enough to look up at him. "Thule," she said quietly, "do you think I'll have more nightmares if I do or if I don't see him?"

 

Thule nodded, turning her in his arms so that she faced away from him, then turning himself so that he faced where Vladi lay.

 

The big man lay in a pool of blood, three fountains of it still pumping slowly out of his chest. Thule's first shot had taken out the back of his head. There would be no horror movie moment of the alleged corpse making one last, desperate lunge at our hero. He was dead.

 

Thule put his face down on the top of Dawn's head and began to laugh. It was a chuckle at first, but soon his whole body was shaking with it. Dawn let it go on for a good minute before she asked, "What's so funny?"

 

Thule said, "The next time I have a plan where I say, 'I'll have to subdue him,' and the guy's built like Frankenstein's monster, I would appreciate if someone would point that out."

 

Dawn turned in his arms, tilted her head back, wrapped her own arms around the back of his neck and kissed him. The lipstick Thule had put on her tasted like synthetic blueberries.

 

"I love you, Thule."

 

"I love you too, Wildcat. And I now know why Jake calls you that."

 

When they parted, Thule said, "Get some clothes on and let's get out of here."

 

Dawn went to the trunk, pulling out the duffel bag, "Before we do, we'll need to change the driver's side tire in the front. It burst when I pulled forward."

 

Thule groaned, "That's going to be a trick with the wrench at the bottom of the quarry."

 

Dawn dressed quickly. Thule leaned down and tried to loosen the nuts by hand, "I don't think they're going to budge."

 

"They won't," said Dawn, "I made sure they were on good and tight."

 

"Well," said Thule, "it is a lovely night for a walk in the woods."

 

Dawn nodded, pulling on Thule's flannel shirt, "After a long ride in the trunk, it'll feel good to stretch my legs."

 

Thule cut the half of the bedspread that was not soaked in blood in half again, wrapping one piece around Dawn and the other around himself.

 

"What's that smell?" Dawn asked.

 

Thule reached into the back seat of the car, extracting the Styrofoam cup of dead minnows, "That's you, I'm afraid." When Dawn looked at him, puzzled, Thule added, "The one aspect of your being a corpse that I did not consider was that you would start to stink at some point on this trip. Vladi has apparently made this trip enough times to expect it."

 

Dawn looked out over the water, deceptively beautiful in the moonlight. Thule could almost see her trying to guess how many bodies lay beneath its surface. She wrapped the makeshift shawl tighter around herself, "Let's get out of here."

 

Thule reached into the car, opening the glove compartment, and drawing out his GPS tracker, a pen and paper. He stored the coordinates, then wrote them down. It never hurt to be too careful.

 

They hiked up the steep quarry road, pausing at the top to catch their breath. Thule also took the opportunity to change clips on his pistol. Dawn had tucked the flare gun into the back of her own waistband.

 

"Still no signal on your phone?" asked Dawn.

 

Thule shook his head, "Coverage is kind of spotty in the pine barrens."

 

They walked in relative silence up to the dirt road and along its length, empty houses watching them like hollow skulls. As they crested a rise, Thule caught Dawn and pulled her back, having spotted the outline of a van in the moonlight.

 

"Mr. Roemer," called Vil Umanski, "you can come out. My driver is sound asleep and will not wake for some time."

 

Thule signaled to Dawn to stay behind the rise and stepped forward.

 

"You took longer than I expected," said Umanski, leaning heavily on his cane. "Did Officer Yudin give you any trouble?"

 

"A little," said Thule. "The man is built like a bull."

 

"Good Cossack stock," agreed Umanski affably. "You are to be commended, Mr. Roemer. Very few men have pulled the wool over my eyes as thoroughly as you have. You never had any intention of helping Randy, did you?"

 

Thule shook his head, "No."

 

Umanski shook his head, chuckling, "I should have considered that possibility more closely. I truly am becoming a foolish old man. Why all of this, then? What did you accomplish?"

 

"A settling of old scores," said Thule.

 

Umanski shrugged, "Fair enough. I suppose it will all come out soon enough. You will want to pull my driver out of the van, put on his cap with my logo, and gray uniform tunic, of course. This will allow you to get past my and the General's men. There are a fair number of them in these woods by now."

 

"Why?" asked Thule.

 

"Because they are looking for you, Mr. Roemer," said Umanski. "You had less than an hour's head start before the General and I figured out what you were up to."

 

"No," said Thule. "I meant, why are you doing this for me?"

 

"If I could have stopped you, Mr. Roemer, I would have," said Umanski. "But, you play with the pieces you have left on the board. And sometimes to win, you must play without ego." He looked off into the distance, as if he were done speaking, but then added, "The family will be much better off with Tryne in charge. You didn't actually have any plans of marrying her, did you?"

 

Thule shook his head, "No."

 

"A pity," said Umanski. "That would have been something. Mr. Roemer, I would appreciate if you could hurry up a little and take me hostage. I have a bit of trouble with my hip and it is starting to ache."

 

Thule went to the van, pulled the driver out, stripped him of tunic and cap, and put them on. He turned to Vil Umanski, "How do I look?"

 

Umanski viewed Thule in the uniform that theoretically marked him as one of Umanski's own employees, "Somewhere between a dream come true and my worst nightmare, Mr. Roemer."

 

Thule signaled towards Dawn and called, "Dawn, you can come out now."

 

She emerged, keeping the flare gun pointed at Umanski.

 

"Young lady," said Umanski, "you should really get more sun. You do not look well. I must say that I am relieved you are not actually deceased. I was not certain Mr. Roemer would stop at murder to undo my employer."

 

Dawn ran to Thule, hugging him.

 

"Ah," said Umanski, "young love. Surely, it is the most destructive force in the universe."

 

                                           -=-

 

The van and the uniform got them past the General's men, who were patrolling the area.

 

"Why don't they just go to the quarry?" Thule asked.

 

"I told them that I did not know where it was," said Umanski.

 

"Who are they?" asked Thule. "I've seen them before at the estate, but I figured they were just another security detail."

 

"They are the General's men," said Umanski. "Before you ask, the General is Major General Arkady Belov, formerly of the KGB. He does not remember me, but he ordered my death almost fifty years ago. He is also an ally of Ivan's and a high-ranking member of the Russian crime syndicate in New York. He has far more bodies in that quarry than my employer does. I am afraid that you have made yourself a powerful new enemy tonight. If you ever decide you wish to be as thorough in dismantling his empire as you have been with my employer's, I will be happy to provide whatever assistance I can."

 

Thule laughed, "I thought you scoffed at the idea of settling old scores."

 

Umanski's smile was almost friendly, "No, Mr. Roemer. I scoffed at the idea you had any old scores. This score was old long before you were born."

 

They were back in Keyes before Thule's cell phone started to get even a weak signal. Pulling back into the Gas and Go, he got out and used the pay phone, first to call Anders, then Marigold.

 

"Little flower," he told her, "Dawn and I are all right. It's over."

 

Marigold asked a number of hurried questions so that Thule could reassure her that everything really was all right. Then, she asked to talk to Dawn, who told her much the same thing.

 

"Thule," said Marigold, "hug and kiss Dawn for me, like you promised."

 

He did, pressed tight together with her in the phone booth. The kiss was intense and somber, at least until Dawn started giggling.

 

                               -=-

 

More people descended on Keyes in the next few weeks than had in its entire history. First came the FBI agents, then the reporters, followed quickly by the curiosity-seekers. Mannsborough underwent similar scrutiny. For the next two weeks, the story was the only thing on TV. Despite the fact that none of the principles were talking to the press, the coverage was relentless. Jonas wound up hiring a public relations team to give the press something to focus on and everyone else some small measure of peace and quiet.

 

In addition to press, Mannsborough also swarmed with state police, now. Practically the entire local police force was indicted on conspiracy charges. With the evidence that Thule had provided, the indictments seemed to come in a near-infinite stream.

 

After two weeks, a baby fell down a well in the Midwest and the reporters, for the most part, decamped from Mannsborough. The story wouldn't die, however, as more corpses were found and identified in the quarry.

 

As much as possible, Thule, Marigold, and Dawn kept their heads down, focused on preparing for finals and graduation. Marigold spent as many nights at Thule's house as she did at her own.

 

One night, three weeks after the events in the quarry and in the middle of finals, Matika showed up driving Thule's car. Whatever the forensics teams had to do had been done and someone had even provided a new tire. Dawn and Thule both came out to hug Matika, although Dawn did it with her eyes firmly planted on the car.

 

Dawn elected to go into the garage while Thule invited Matika inside. Sitting on the couch, nursing a beer, she caught Thule up on what was going on at the Bureau.

 

"It looks like the suspensions are going to be permanent," she said. "I'm going to be allowed to keep my job and Anders might even get a commendation for his role. I don't think I'm going to stay, though."

 

Thule nodded, "Any thought as to what you intend to do, then?"

 

Matika shrugged, "Something in the private sector, I guess. Five years in the Bureau opens a lot of doors."

 

Thule nodded again, "I have a proposition for you."

 

Matika looked at him curiously. Thule outlined the groundwork he'd laid down so far. Matika listened and nodded and asked a few astute questions. When the conversation was done, she nodded again, "I'll talk to them about it. We'll let you know."

 

Rising, she asked, "Could you give me a ride back into town, please? Anders is waiting there for me. He would have come all the way, but he wasn't sure you'd want to see him."

 

"Agent Harter?" asked Thule. He laughed, "The man came through when it counted and got my ass out of Keyes. I'd be delighted to see him."

 

                               -=-

 

When Thule returned, Dawn was still in the garage. He stood and watched her work for a while.

 

"Is it running?" Thule asked.

 

"She's purring like a kitten," said Dawn, "I just wanted to putty up the air holes before you got any funny ideas about making me ride in the trunk again."

 

Thule wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing the top of her head. Dawn turned in his arms for a more proper kiss.

 

"You know," Thule said, "I never meant to ruin the link between cars and sex for you."

 

Dawn chuckled throatily, "Well, maybe you can fix it."

 

Thule's hands slid inside of her sweats. She unbuttoned his shirt, kissing his chest. His hands kneading the flesh of her bottom, he kissed her neck and throat.

 

Dawn undid his pants, kissing the flat of his belly, stripping him from the waist down and going down to her knees. She took him into her mouth, licking and sucking, taking him a little way into her throat. Thule leaned back against the wall as the strength threatened to abandon his legs. His hand ruffled her hair, longer now than at any time since he'd met her.

 

Drawing her eventually to her feet, Thule lifted Dawn so that she was sitting on the edge of the hood. He peeled off her sports bra, lowering his mouth to kiss her belly and breasts. She tasted faintly of automotive grease.

 

Dawn held onto his neck. Thule rose to kiss her, full on the mouth.

 

"I love you, Dawn," he whispered, "so goddamned much."

 

Dawn nodded, too overcome to speak.

 

Thule stripped off her sweats, lifting her into his arms and lowering her onto himself before sitting her back on the hood. Dawn gripped him with her legs, her ankles locked in the small of his back as he drove into her.

 

"Oh, God," she cried out. "Thule, I love you so much."

 

As he bore down into her, Dawn leaned farther and farther back across the hood. As Thule's pace quickened, building towards a finish, she sat back up again.

 

"Thule," she whispered, "I want you to do something for me."

 

Thule nodded. She told him. His eyes widened as she spoke.

 

"Are you sure that's safe?" asked Thule.

 

"No," said Dawn, "but, it won't kill me and I'd like to try it."

 

Thule nodded, pulling out of her. As he stepped away, Dawn rolled over on her belly. Thule retrieved an unopened quart of motor oil.

 

"You're sure?" he asked. Dawn looked back over her shoulder, nodding. Thule opened it, pouring a little bit of the viscous golden liquid onto two of his fingers, then sliding one and then the other inside of her from behind.

 

"Oh, God," Dawn cried out, "Thule, it feels so good. Take me, please."

 

Thule pressed himself against her. Sensing no resistance, he entered her, slowly at first. She gasped and shivered with pleasure. Despite the fact that she'd never been had this way before, she barely resisted, apparently in the grip of her fantasy.

 

As Thule increased his tempo, he leaned down, kissing Dawn between her shoulder blades, on her shoulders, on the back of her head. She gave little whimpers of pleasure as he drove into her, building speed and ferocity.

 

As he gave up all pretense of self control, pistoning away at her with total abandon, Dawn's voice and his own rose in unison, neither making sounds that could properly be called speech. She came and kept coming, her whole body quaking under him. Thule kept at her a long time, not letting up until he had no choice, exploding inside of her with a groan of pleasure.

 

Afterwards, they sat together in the backseat, Dawn curled up in Thule's arms, neither speaking, just listening to each other breathe, feeling their pulses synchronize.

 

"I can't believe I'm going to have to spend a year without you two," Dawn said.

 

Thule kissed her head and forehead, "It won't be that long. And Boston is not that far of a trip. You can come up on weekends and holidays. Enjoy high school while you can. For the first time, that might actually be possible."

 

Dawn nodded against his chest, not speaking.

 

                               -=-

 

The next night, Thule lay in bed with Marigold, sweat cooling on their bodies as their quickened breathing slowed. Dawn was at Marigold's house, showing Jonas how to use his computer or maybe tuning up his car.

 

"I hope you're happy," said Thule.

 

"Very," said Marigold.

 

"I mean," said Thule, "that you finally got what you wanted. I'm so crazy in love with both of you, I don't know who I would choose if I had to. That's what you wanted, right?"

 

Marigold nodded against his chest.

 

"So," asked Thule, "does that make you happy?"

 

"I think so," said Marigold. "At the very least, I'm pleased. I love you, Thule."

 

"I love you too, Little Flower," said Thule, "now and forever."

 

                               -=-

 

Graduation day brought the press back to Mannsborough. With Thule and Marigold giving the salutatory and valedictory speeches and a sizable chunk of the class of 2001 missing, either dead or implicated in the deaths of their classmates, they couldn't resist. When it got out that Jessica Bowers, who had been hidden away at Silent Hills by the Vandevoorts since the previous summer would be graduating with her classmates, it seemed like every reporter, photographer, cameraman, stringer, pundit, anchor and gonzo journalist within a thousand miles descended like locusts on the school. The graduation was moved from the front steps to the football stadium.

 

Thule chuckled to his father and Jonas as they approached the graduation, "Hans Vandevoort Memorial Stadium," he read off of the side.

 

Jonas chuckled, "I hope you won't be mentioning the irony in your speech."

 

"No," said Thule, "I know it's going to disappoint a lot of people, but I am giving the most generic, boring graduation speech that I possibly can. You wouldn't believe some of the things I've been offered to mention products or quote specific politicians up there. I know the media's expecting me to break my silence today, but I have no intention of doing so. They're like stray dogs. If you keep feeding them, they keep coming back."

 

"Is that why you wouldn't let me see your speech?" Jonas asked Marigold.

 

"That was why I wouldn't show anyone my speech," said Marigold. "I'm not going to break the covenant of silence we've worked so hard to maintain up until now and I didn't need anyone pressuring me to do so. Not," she added to Jonas, "that I thought you would, sir. But, if you didn't know what I was going to say, you wouldn't be pressured to keep it a secret."

 

Jonas laughed, "Your father would be very proud of you and horribly disappointed in me today. Here I promised to protect you and you're protecting me. You're going to be an extraordinary woman, Marigold."

 

Marigold nodded, but didn't speak. Thule hugged her to him.

 

They rode together in a security shuttle disguised as a catering van. At the same time, Jake was driving Thule's car up to the front of the stadium, drawing all of the reporters away. Jake's own role in the story was still mostly unknown, but he would be good for a few "no comments" before the media decided to start looking for Thule and Marigold again.

 

They got out in the back parking lot and started walking towards the service entrance of the stadium. As they did, a single form detached herself from another group and headed towards them. As Thule recognized her, he waved the rest of them inside, standing inside the door until she could pass, then pulling it shut.

 

"Dule," said Svetlana, "I suspected that you would not go in the front way."

 

Thule nodded and chuckled, "I guess you know me better than the media does."

 

"I have a gun in my purse," said Svetlana matter-of-factly.

 

Thule felt the cool metal against his belly, "I have one, too. I would hate to have to shoot you, Sveta."

 

Svetlana nodded, "You won't have to, Dule. I considered shooting you, but I think I would rather thank you."

 

"I don't think you need to do that, either," said Thule. "We used each other to get what we wanted."

 

"I wish I did not know so much about my Randy," said Svetlana. "I used to like him a lot better."

 

"I'm sorry, Sveta," said Thule. He didn't know what else to say.

 

She smiled, "So, I do want to thank you. When I chose to follow Ivan here, I was young and foolish. You saved me from being young and foolish again."

 

Thule nodded in acknowledgement, "What will you do now?"

 

She smiled, "I have been accepted to Boston College. I will be attending in the fall. So, perhaps I will see you around."

 

While Thule stood there in stunned silence, Svetlana leaned up and kissed him gently on the mouth. Then, she was gone.

 

                               -=-

 

As promised, Thule's speech made no mention of the Vandevoorts or the case except obliquely. The stadium was packed, about a quarter of the way with friends and family and the rest with media. There was even more media outside. When he asked for a moment of silence for classmates that could not be with them and lowered his head, he was momentarily blinded by the flashes. In spite of the tacky and ghoulish nature of the attention, a tear rolled down his cheek. That, of course, encouraged the feeding frenzy, lighting up the stadium like it was noon in the desert.

 

Marigold's speech was in much the same vein, eminently forgettable if not for the circumstances. Thule had tried to get her to take the moment of silence for herself, but she'd deferred, claiming that she'd wind up "blubbering like a baby." Thule had not thought himself susceptible to such displays.

 

                               -=-

 

Thule, his father, Marigold, and Dawn were all at the house when Thule finally signed a book deal. It was two weeks after graduation. He'd been playing a game of brinkmanship with the publishers. They kept making incremental improvements to their offers while trying to get other people to tell their story, making Thule's less valuable. Only Brianne had talked to the media in any detail and her perspective of what had happened was even more skewed than the media's own.

 

When the offers had topped into seven figures on the advance, Thule had been tempted to jump, but it wasn't really a big advance he was looking for. Of the three publishers with serious deals on the table, he chose to go with the second highest bidder because they were willing to give him everything he asked for with the exception of a few items he hadn't really wanted in the first place. Jake had been through the process on a much smaller scale with a history of poker he'd wrapped up on shortly before meeting Thule and proved an invaluable guide. Thule hoped he would prove equally valuable as a coauthor, since he would be doing most of the actual writing.

 

When he hung up the phone, he looked around the room. Once the advance came through, he would be an instant millionaire. He'd already been offered ludicrous amounts to speak to everyone from the NRA to Handgun Control not to mention offers of a far more personal nature from some of the oddest sources. In order to help his next venture succeed, he might have to take a few of the less exploitative offers, but he would choose them carefully.

 

He laid out the specifics of the deal, how much up front, how the percentages worked. Then, he explained the concessions he'd gotten on editorial control and listing Jake as coauthor rather than as a ghostwriter. He was almost embarrassed to mention the final concession that he'd held out for. Despite the fact that the media had constantly referred to him as "Bart," he would still be credited as "Thule."

 

They went out to dinner to celebrate. Thule, Marigold, Dawn, Jake, Jake's father, Jonas, Holly, and even Jake's wife made it. After the celebratory toasts were over, Thule said quietly to his father, "You know, you could probably retire if you wanted to."

His father shook his head, "If you'd made the offer a year or two ago, I would have been much more sorely tempted. But, you're not going to be there and, quite frankly, I don't think Dawn needs me to raise her. Besides, I've got my own way of changing the world. We did a dry run right before I left of the crisis management tools I helped build in Ghana. They'll save thousands of lives the next time there's a flood or earthquake or famine. I love what I do."

 

Thule nodded, "I figured you would say that, but I had to offer."

 

Dawn refused his suggestion of a new car and wouldn't hear of taking the convertible if he got a new one. Her heart was set on fixing up his old car, which she informed Thule was a 1983 Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera. By the time she was done, so much of it had been replaced that it wasn't even the same car, but she seemed happy, so Thule wasn't going to argue with her. She did accept when he paid to take her to Maui for two weeks for Marigold's nineteenth birthday, telling him that she was, "making the sacrifice for the woman she loved."

 

Thule managed to enjoy the vacation, having given the media the slip by making hotel reservations and plans in LA, then getting on a connecting flight to Honolulu, a puddle-jumper to Maui and a helicopter to the Hana side of the island. By that point, Thule had started to let his hair grow again, just long enough that he didn't look like himself. Dawn had as well and it was already pushing past her shoulders. Marigold was experimenting with being a redhead and, while both of her lovers said they preferred her blonde, she had not yet considered whether or not to keep it that way.

 

They spent the first week on Maui enjoying the rustic simplicity of the Hana side, swimming, sleeping, making love, and visiting with Kale's family. Now that his book deal was secure, Thule had convinced Ioke to sell just enough of her story and the rights to a picture of her and Thule dancing at the prom to be able to come out and stay with Kale and his family for a few weeks. In her native environment, Thule swore that she was twice as beautiful as she was at home. If he hadn't been with the two women he most wanted in the world, it might have hurt to see her like that.

 

The second week they'd spent on the more touristy part of the island, doing tourist things and letting themselves be teenagers.  Thule objected, but refused to forbid Marigold to pierce her eyebrow, so she did. Two days before they were scheduled to leave, Thule annouced that he was going to hold his first press conference on the Big Island forty-eight hours later. The media scrambled to get reporters there by whatever means they could. Thule knew that part of the appeal was to send back tons of footage of the three of them on vacation. The media was dimly aware that Thule, Marigold, and Dawn were a triad, but had no conclusive evidence and was dying to get something incriminating that they could report.

 

Thule held his press conference, announcing the foundation of his new company and its structure. He took no questions and left promptly from the conference to catch a flight with Dawn and Marigold to Boston.

 

                               -=-

 

"So," asked Marigold as Jonas and Holly met them at the subway station, "is this my birthday present?"

 

"No," said Jonas laughing, "your birthday present is back in Mannsborough. This is your...bequeathal for coming of age. It's also a bribe. You get to use it as long as you keep going to school."

 

"Oh, my God," said Marigold, "you are such a meanie. Thule, isn't he a meanie?"

 

Thule smiled. He didn't think it appropriate to mention that the stay in school clause was his idea. He'd already been accused of conspiring against Marigold enough, both with Jonas and Dawn, that he didn't need to give her any more ammunition.

 

The building was gorgeous, built shortly after World War II in a part of town exclusive enough that getting to the subway would be a hike. When they arrived, the liveried doorman handed Jonas a key for the elevator, which Jonas handed to Marigold, informing the doorman that she, Thule, and eventually Dawn would be living there. The doorman was well-mannered and professional enough to pretend not to recognize them.

 

The apartment took up the top two floors of the building. The entrance hall was about twice the size of Thule's living room and opened into a much larger atrium, two stories high, topped by a huge skylight. Doors opened up on both sides of the atrium and a huge double staircase dominated the far side of the room. The floor, like that in the foyer was done in a black and white harlequin pattern. The visible furniture was early twentieth century modern.

 

"Jonas," said Marigold, "I can't accept this." Dawn looked at her, alarmed.

 

"You'd better," said Jonas. "It's already paid for and I don't intend to sell it for a while."

 

"But," said Marigold, "it must be worth ten times what the house in Mannsborough is."

 

Thule suppressed a chuckle. He suspected Marigold was off by about an order of magnitude.

 

Jonas coughed uneasily, "I bought that house with the idea that I didn't want you growing up spoiled, thinking that everything was just going to be handed to you. But, you're grown up now. If you haven't learned that lesson, you're not going to. Now that you're moving to Boston, I'm selling that house."

 

Marigold looked alarmed, "You are? Where will you two live?"

 

"Actually," said Jonas, "I've put in a bid on the Vandevoort estate. It seems Jonas is having trouble paying his lawyers."

 

Thule looked stunned, "You have?"

 

Jonas nodded, "It's a little more than I wanted, but it is still in Mannsborough and I really didn't like the looks of the people who were considering buying it if I didn't."

 

Marigold walked out into the atrium, looking up and around at it, "All right," she said, "you talked me into it."

 

                               -=-

 

Thule left Dawn and Marigold at the apartment and Jonas and Holly at their hotel before heading downtown to his new office. Before he went, he changed into his business suit and dark aviator sunglasses. When he got to he building, Jake was waiting for him, dressed more or less identically. Because Thule had shaved his head again for the press conference, even the haircuts matched.

 

The receptionist, a pretty Russian girl about Thule's age, stopped them at the front desk, asking their names and who they were there to see.

 

"Thule Roemer," said Thule. "I work here. I'm the president of the company."

 

The receptionist smiled and asked them to have a seat, then got on the phone, speaking in hushed tones.

 

John emerged from the back office, hugging and welcoming Thule and Jake. He turned to the receptionist and said jokingly, "Take a good look at this man. He signs your paychecks."

 

"No," said Thule, "I don't have a pass, I don't get in back without an escort. I think you're going to get along just fine here...um, I'm sorry. I don't know your name yet."

 

"Svetlana," said the receptionist.

 

Thule paled a little, "Your name is Svetlana?"

 

"Yes," said Svetlana the receptionist, "it's a fairly common Russian name."

 

"Right," said Thule, regaining his color, "I think you'll get along just fine here, Svetlana."

 

John led him in back, "Everyone is here waiting. You're ten minutes late."

 

"Fashionable," said Thule, grinning, "just enough to make an entrance."

 

In the long conference room, most of the company's principles were there. Oddly, the only one he didn't really know was the CEO. Jonas, John, and Anne had done an exhaustive search before picking him out. The man was a minor celebrity in his own right, a former New York cop who had done something heroic in the early eighties. Thule had asked about it as a matter of form and the man had demurred, which made Thule take an instant liking to him.

 

Arrayed around the table were John, Anne, Mac, Matika, Helene, Anders, and Frank Applebaum. Jeff Corlin had decided to take a job with a film production company. It took a while for the meeting to get started as everyone wanted to shake Thule's hand, hug him, kiss him or all three.

 

Finally, Thule sat down, taking the chair at the head of the table.

 

"This isn't really my seat," said Thule, "so I'll be brief."

 

He looked up and down the table, "Most of you know each other. Those that didn't before we opened our doors should by now. I haven't been here yet because I wanted you all to have a chance to settle in without undue media scrutiny and without getting used to the idea that I'm going to be here. I'm not. It may be my name on the door and on the paychecks, but that's just to capitalize on some otherwise unwelcome media attention."

 

He handed out a pile of folders down the table and back, "In case anyone was wondering, this is not some sort of rich boy vanity project. The fact that many of you were out of work because you stuck your necks out to help me may have put the idea in my head, but the business plan was vetted to Jonas Tarr and a panel of venture capitalists and found sound. I expect you all to make me a lot of money."

 

There was genial laughter all around. Thule went on, "You're going to see very little of me for the next year or so. Starting in September, I'll be a freshman at MIT. As I understand it, MIT tries to kill their freshmen by piling on as much work as they will see in the remaining three years. I've gotten used to people trying to kill me, but this is a rather unique way of going about it."

 

There was more laughter. Thule cut it off before it went from ernest to polite, "I have great faith in Mr. Simon's experience and capability. He runs the company. Eventually, I will work here, as time permits and eventually full-time, but I am going to a technical college. I don't consider the amount of study necessary to be a good business leader to be a good use of my time."

 

He smiled, "Just a few things that some of you already know. We've received the contract for handling unified physical and information security for Tarr industries. This contract was an act of blatant nepotism. There were better established and better qualified firms bidding on the contract. We got it because I'm dating the boss's daughter. So, we...and, by we, I mean you will have to work your asses off to demonstrate that you deserve it. The contract is for four years. It will give us time to grow. It's also our crucible. If we can't handle it, you're not the people I think you are."

 

"I've also signed over the rights to market and support two software packages I wrote a while back. One of them, called Roemer Secure Presenter, is already in final negotiation for license to the FBI, thanks to Agent...excuse me, Mr. Harter." He indicated Anders and received a light smattering of applause. "That was the software I used to present the evidence I'd collected on the Vandevoorts to most of you the first time I met you."

 

"There are some other deals in the works that John can tell you about," said Thule. "He's shown a real aptitude for business development."

 

The rest of the meeting took place without Thule needing to contribute much. It looked to him like things were getting off to a promising start, at least as well as he were able to judge such things.

 

                               -=-

 

"I'm not going to have much time for this game come September," said Thule as he lined up his putt.

 

"Tell me about it," said Marigold. "I just saw my freshman schedule at Harvard."

 

"I'll have time, Grandpa Vanya," said Dawn just as Thule swung, knocking the ball wide of the cup, "and I'll still be in Mannsborough if you want to play."

 

Vil laughed, "Da. Jonas has made the same offer. I do not know how much an old man can stand."

 

Thule laughed, sinking a six-inch shot, "Old man, my ass. I'm betting you drink the blood of virgins to stay young and spend two hours a morning putting on wrinkle makeup."

 

"I could never get this many wrinkles in two hours," said Umanski. "These took decades of dealing with young punks like you to earn." He sank a putt from the edge of the green.

 

"So," asked Thule, "any decisions on what you'll do with your retirement?"

 

Umanski laughed, "I have decided to write my memoirs. Your friend Jake and I are already working on the first draft. They will be...fictionalized of course, much as yours are, but mine will be clearly marked as such."

 

After Dawn and Marigold finished their putting, Umanski took the cart to the next tee. Thule and the two women strolled liesurely behind.

 

"You really stink at this," opined Dawn.

 

Thule shrugged, "I can't be good at everything."

 

"Sure you can," said Marigold. She leaned into his arms for a kiss.

 

"Come on, you two," said Dawn. "If we don't hurry up and watch him, Vil will cheat." She bounded on ahead.

 

Thule and Marigold followed more slowly, arm in arm. The sun was bright and the air fresh. It was a wonderful day for a good walk, ruined or not.

 

As Dawn lined up her next drive, Thule looked out at nothing in particular. Soon, he would have to deal with school and Roemer Security Services and the General and the lingering media attention. He doubted he had seen the last of Maya and Svetlana. He would need to deal with them in time. But for now, he was content to enjoy the sun and work on fixing his slice.

 

FIN