Maybe

23

Donovan Creed.

MIRANDA AND I are ten miles from Roanoke when my phone vibrates.

“Hi Lou.”

“Am I on speaker?”

“You are.”

He says, “In that case, Miranda can guess, also.”

“Guess what?” she asks.

“How many unemployed chemists are recently divorced and have kids?”

“You already know?” Miranda says.

“What can I tell you?” he brags. “My guys are the best.”

I say, “In the United States? In this economy? I’d say twelve.”

“How about you, Miranda?” Lou says.

“Six.”

“You win. Sorry Donovan.”

Miranda smiles.

“She’s a natural,” I say. Then ask, “So you’re saying there are exactly six?”

“No. I’m saying she’s closer to the actual number than you.”

“So how many, altogether?” Miranda asks.

“One. Miles Gundy. And he lost his custody battle last week.”

I take Miranda’s hand in mine and bring it to my lips.

“Come work for me!” I whisper.

“No!” she whispers.

To Lou I say, “Miles Gundy?”

“That’s right. And you’re going to love where he lives.”

“Tell me.”

“Highland, Illinois.”

“Why’s that a big deal?”

“It’s only a four hour drive from Louisville.”

“So are a lot of places,” I say. “Give me the address.”

“Four-Sixteen Atlantic Avenue.”

Miranda writes it down.

I ask, “Is this where he lives? Or his wife?”

“Eloise let him keep the house. She and the kids are staying with her sister.”

“You have that address?”

“Twelve-forty-two Vincent. Same town.”

“Car?”

“Two-year-old Honda Accord. White. License plate 4XT167C.

“And he worked where?”

“Esson Pharmaceuticals, St. Louis.”

“What else do you have?”

Lou gives us the other details he’s uncovered, Miranda writes it all down. I tell him to let us know the minute he hears anything that could be related to a mass attack on women or children.

“Of course,” Lou says. Then asks, “Shall I call Sherm Phillips? Tell him we think Gundy’s our urban terrorist?”

I look at Miranda. She shakes her head no.

I ask, “Has the government sounded an alert about the plastic dispensers?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

“And you’d know, right?”

“I would.”

“Then let’s don’t call Sherm.”

He pauses. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes. I personally warned the President. You heard me.”

“But still…”

“They’ll send a hundred people to his house. You know they’ll fuck it up.”

“Of course they will. But we’ll get credit for identifying him.”

“You’ll get even more credit if I catch him with the evidence.”

“True.”

Lou goes quiet. I know what he’s thinking.

“Lou, I don’t want to be the next Darwin. I’ll track Gundy down and kill him. Then you can tell Sherm you isolated this guy as a possible, and dispatched me to check his house for evidence. I’ll make it look like Gundy tried to shoot me.”

“Be careful going to his house. It might be booby trapped.”

“Speaking of booby traps,” Miranda says, “How’s Sherry?”

Lou sighs audibly. Then says, “You guys make a perfect couple.”

When we get to our hotel, I give Miranda the room key and watch her walk to the elevator. Before getting on, she spins around and blows me a kiss. I touch my cheek and pretend it knocks me back. Then I walk down the hall to Dr. P.’s room and knock on the door. When he opens it I say, “Hello, Darwin.”