Double Jeopardy

35

9:45 P.M.

TRAVIS SMILED AT CAVANAUGH, who was securely taped to a kitchen chair. He dipped her wooden spoon into the pot he had taken from the stove and tasted the contents.

“Mmm,” he murmured appreciatively. “What do you call this?”

Cavanaugh’s reply was something like blmflkmbtk. It was the most the dishrag duct-taped in her mouth would allow.

“Bell-pepper soup? Whatever it is, it’s good.”

Cavanaugh bowed her head in acknowledgment.

“Who would’ve guessed that the tough lady prosecutor would be a great cook?” His eyebrows bounced up and down. “I wonder what other talents you’ve been hiding?”

Her reply was muffled but nonetheless forceful. Upon reflection, Travis was grateful that he couldn’t understand what she was saying.

“Oh, I found your dog in the back room, hiding in the closet. Don’t worry, I fed him. He’s cute. Not exactly a Doberman, but cute.”

Cavanaugh’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t hate toy poodles the way some guys do. You know, some people would rather have a pet rat than one of those yippy yappers. Not me. I like them just fine.”

He grinned, hoping she might return some indication of amiability. He was sorely disappointed.

“Maybe you’re bored. Is that it? Look.” He withdrew two large blue marbles from his coat pocket, placed them in his right palm, and held out his hands, knuckles up. He swirled his hands back and forth, over and under, up and down. “Okay, which hand are the marbles in?”

Cavanaugh’s expression did not change.

“Look, I’m sorry about taping you up. You left me no choice.”

Cavanaugh did not appear sympathetic.

“I’m not kidding. I didn’t want to bother you. Really. I just wanted your help. If anyone can figure a way out of this mess, I thought, Cavanaugh can. Got any suggestions?”

Her only response was communicated through angry, glaring eyes.

Travis sighed. He dipped the spoon back in the pot and slurped more soup. “I feel guilty eating in front of you. Can I get you some milk or something? I promise not to poison it.”

Cavanaugh kicked with both feet, then twisted from side to side, straining against her bonds. It was no use. She was securely fixed in place.

“If you agree not to scream, or call the police, or try to get away, I’ll untie you. You wouldn’t have to be civil to me. What d’ya say?”

No reaction.

“Oh well.” He finished the soup, then sat on the floor, his arms folded across his lap. “I’m going to tell you everything that’s happened to me since Moroconi busted out of jail. Maybe you can come up with some ideas. Okay?”

Cavanaugh glared at him with stony eyes. “Okay. Good. Well, it began when I got this phone call in the middle of the night. …”