Guilty Minds

73

Merlin drove home, and Dorothy and I talked for a while. We ordered some room service — a club sandwich for me, a Cobb salad for her. She picked at her salad; she didn’t seem hungry. She had a glass of white wine, and I had a beer.

“Why are you so sure Vogel’s going to keep Mandy alive?” she said.

“She’s only leverage if she’s alive.”

“But for how long? Do we have till tomorrow?”

“He’s planning on at least that long. Until I return to Boston, he said.”

“Where do you think they’re keeping her?”

“I don’t know. It looked like she was sitting in a garage of some kind. There were garden tools hanging on the wall behind her.”

“What you’re planning for tomorrow — it’s risky.”

“No question.”

“Are you sure it’s... a good idea?”

“Vogel’s the sort of guy who responds only to overwhelming force.”

She looked into her wineglass for a few seconds, then set it down. “Can we speak frankly?”

I smiled. “Do you ever do anything else?”

“As long as I’ve known you, you’ve never been what I’d call cautious. You always seem to be willing to go to the very edge.”

“Only when I have to. I don’t play games, and I don’t take chances when I don’t need to.”

She sipped from her wineglass, and I took a bite of my sandwich. “From where I sit, it doesn’t look that way. You always seem to be pushing. Almost asking for trouble. I’m asking you to think twice, this time. Take some precautions.”

“I always do.”

She sighed. “You’re not — afraid?”

“Of course I am. George Patton — I know, he was a jerk, but the guy was brilliant — said, ‘I’ve never seen a brave man. All men are frightened — the smarter they are, the more frightened.’”

“These guys are ruthless, Nick. Just be careful tomorrow. You don’t know what you’re facing.”

“You’re right,” I said. “I don’t.”

We both went to bed early. We had a long day ahead of us.

I was exhausted yet unable to fall asleep. I tossed and turned and thought about the next day’s plans, rehearsing them, looking for holes. Then I tried to clear my mind. I breathed in and out. I stared at the clock on the bedside table.

My restless mind didn’t give up the struggle until maybe two in the morning.