“I don’t care about proof! As long as there’s enough proof for me!”
Louie didn’t respond. His silence was more powerful.
Jack felt like a fool. Unprofessional. “I was about to pick up Natasha and go to the farm,” he said, changing the subject. “I want a photo of him to show Marcie. See what she says.”
“She didn’t see his face,” Louie said thoughtfully, “but Wigmore has a mole on his neck.”
“Exactly. She was still terrified when she described him to us. Easy to forget stuff. It wouldn’t hurt for her to take a look. Might twig a memory. Even to see if it’s his build or hairstyle.”
“I’ll get you one from Staffing. We should talk about all this. Let’s meet for a quick coffee and I’ll give you a picture.”
“I need to be positive. If she can’t identify the picture, how the hell do we find out?”
“They’re still downloading his computer.”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t expect they’ll find evidence, unless he ordered the mask online. Meet you at Starbucks?”
“Be there in forty minutes.”
Jack met Louie, then picked up Natasha later. He glanced in his rear-view mirror. He’d had a feeling that a green van and maybe a car had been following him when they left her apartment, but he hadn’t seen them in the last hour.
He drove down the side road toward the farm and crested a small hill and stopped. Anyone following wouldn’t know he had stopped until they were practically upon him.
“Mind if I ask what you’re doing?”
Jack glanced at Natasha and said, “I’m probably a little paranoid. Just making sure that I’m not being followed.”
“You told me that you thought it was coincidence that those bikers blew themselves up. A drug war. With the way you’re behaving, I get the feeling that there’s more to it than that.”
“There probably isn’t. I’m just the cautious type.”
“Is that why Danny sent Susan and Tiffany to Calgary?”
“As I said, it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”
“Is that why you didn’t come over and see me last night?”
“I felt that I should stay with Danny. We needed to talk.”
“And today?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. I was feeling … amorous when you picked me up. You treated me like I had leprosy. You really hurt my feelings, until I realized that you’re moving like someone who is hurt. I take it you don’t want me to see any bruises?”
Jack sighed. “Okay. You’re right. I was in a scrap late Sunday night. Work related. I came in second. Yes, I am feeling a little sore.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m feeling a little tense, okay? I’m really close to knowing who was responsible for killing Maggie and Ben Junior. Sometimes my work is secret. I try to keep things on a need-to-know basis. It’s as simple as that.”
Natasha didn’t respond, but Jack could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t happy.
He put the car in gear, and they remained silent for the rest of the drive.
Marcie was delighted that everyone congratulated her on her good grades. Later, Jack found a moment to take her aside and show her Wigmore’s picture. Marcie didn’t think it was him. Jack told her not to worry about it. He would soon find out for sure.
Jack thought that Natasha had warmed up to him by the time they were leaving. Ben, Liz, and Marcie came out on the back porch to say goodbye.
Marcie gave Jack a hug, then said, “I’m sorry that I couldn’t say the picture you showed me tonight was the guy who hurt me in the cabin.”
“It’s okay. I’ll find out.”
Natasha gave Jack a hard look but kept silent until they were driving home. “Marcie is linked to the guy who ordered the bikers to kill Maggie and Ben Junior, isn’t she?” she asked.
Jack nodded.
“So you’re using her to find out who it is.”
“Sort of, but —”
“She’s just a kid! How could you do that to her? Hasn’t she been through enough?”
Jack sighed, then said, “I know she’s just a kid. But I still have to identify the guy.”
Natasha made no attempt to keep the anger out of her voice. “So you’re keeping her on ice at your sister’s until you need her to help you!”
“No! That’s not why! But if she can help, then I’m still going —”
“You think she might be in danger now! That’s why you were checking to see if we were being followed tonight!”
“I’m only being cautious. I told you….”
“Drive me home, Jack. I really don’t want to talk with you. Ever.”
It was midnight when Jack arrived back at his apartment. He told Danny that Natasha had broken up with him. Danny was sympathetic.
Two hours later, the bottle of Jose Cuervo was three-quarters empty. Jack told Danny to pull out the sofa and go to bed. Whiskey Jake and Sparks heard a bedroom door close, and a few minutes later Sparks turned the speaker down to cut out the sound of Danny’s snoring.
Jack lay in bed as he thought about Natasha. Love, anger, sorrow, and self-doubt ravaged his brain until the pain became physical and gripped his stomach and chest like a vise.
An hour later his thoughts were interrupted when he heard a bottle fall and roll across his coffee table. He got to his feet and padded barefoot into the living room. Danny was snoring on the sofa with one foot dangling beside the coffee table. The bottle of tequila was emptying the last of its contents on his rug. He picked up the bottle and was about to return to his bedroom when he stepped on something. He checked the bottom of his foot and found a small shiny screw. It looked like it came from his stereo.
chapter thirty-five
Lance hung up the phone and went back to eating his breakfast. He tried to figure out what Jack was up to. Who in the club was Rolly’s favourite friend, besides Wizard? That was easy. Stallion and Rolly were like brothers. Real brothers. Where could you find Stallion alone without any club members being around? That was easy, too. Stallion fit his ethnic roots and, being single, dined at his favourite restaurant most nights after work.
Lance mulled it over in his brain. Jack had told him they would meet in person soon. Maybe Jack would explain then.
Whiskey Jake and Thumper watched as Damien reviewed the pictures. They were using a computer monitor at the apartment of one of Thumper’s girlfriends. She had been sent shopping. Damien zoomed in on the digital imaging of Marcie saying goodbye to Jack on the porch.
Whiskey Jake said, “So what do ya think? I don’t know who this little bitch is, but from what we heard, it sounds like she can identify The Suit. Too bad we didn’t see the picture that the pig showed her.”
Damien zoomed in on Jack’s face and watched quietly for about a minute, then said, “The copper doesn’t look too happy. My guess is that he either isn’t sure or doesn’t know at all.”
“Should we get Wizard over for a look?” asked Whiskey Jake.
“No. Even if this girl can’t point a finger at The