What Doesn't Kill Us--A McKenzie Novel David Housewright (shoe dog free ebook TXT) 📖

Toft threw a thumb over his shoulder in case Harry wanted to know where “in back” was located.

“That was a little harsh, don’t you think?” Harry said. “Some might even consider your actions akin to false imprisonment.”

“Mr. McKenzie had called our marketing department earlier that morning claiming to be a journalist employed by the Minneapolis / St. Paul Business Journal. That was a lie. We have the call on tape, by the way.”

“How long did you hold him?”

“A half hour. After the shareholders’ meeting, Mr. King came down and spoke to him.”

“Charles King?”

“Porter King,” Toft said. “Charles was not on the premises Tuesday afternoon.”

“What did they speak about?”

“I don’t know. We were asked to leave the room while Mr. King and McKenzie spoke privately.”

“Afterward?”

“They emerged from the room, shook hands, and went their separate ways.”

“They shook hands?”

“Whatever their differences, they seemed to have been resolved.”

“I would like to speak to Mr. King,” Harry said.

“He is not on the premises.”

“Since you guys seem to enjoy quoting regulations”—Harry thrust his jaw at the first guard—“Section 1001 of Title Eighteen of the United States Code, prohibits you from knowingly and willfully making false or fraudulent statements, or concealing information, in any matter within the jurisdiction of the federal government of the United States. It’s the reason why Martha Stewart went to jail.”

Toft folded his arms across the front of his suit jacket and grinned.

“Really, Special Agent Wilson,” he said. “You felt the need to pull that card out of the deck? Up until now I thought we were friends.”

Harry grinned back.

“That was cheap, I apologize,” he said. “However, it’s important that I speak with Mr. King.”

“You could try his home.”

FIFTEEN

Bobby didn’t want to have lunch with Shelby, much less with Nina, much less with the two of them together for the simple reason that he knew they were going to ask a lot of questions that he didn’t have the answers to. Still, he explained as much as he could, including why he wasn’t actually working the investigation himself.

“I’m afraid I might become so angry or frustrated that I’ll screw it up,” he said. “Take Justus Reinfeld. There’s a certain subtlety involved in questioning a suspect…”

“Reinfeld is a suspect?” Nina asked.

“Of course he is. A lot of suspects love to talk to the police, too, because they think they can convince us that they’re not suspects. Thank the Lord for that because, seriously, it makes our job so much easier. Apparently Reinfeld is a smart man, though. If he saw me coming he’d lawyer up in a heartbeat and I would never get to question him. Ever. I don’t know how I’d react to that, all things considered. Probably badly. As it is, the only reason Reinfeld agreed to speak to Greg Schroeder in the first place is because he was afraid of Riley Muehlenhaus. Now that he’s had time to think about it … I don’t know.”

Normally, Bobby never spoke of his work outside the office. Not to anyone, much less family and friends, except from time to time to tell a few “fucktard” stories. Partly it was because he didn’t want to inadvertently compromise an investigation. Mostly, though, it was because he felt it wasn’t something he should do; one of the reasons he didn’t have many friends in the news media.

As it was, he felt uncomfortable as he nibbled at his shaved ham and poached pear sandwich, something new to Rickie’s lunch menu. He had even argued with Nina over paying for it. Finally, she told him that if he felt that guilty about being comped, Bobby should do what I always did—leave a tip for the waitstaff big enough to pay for the meal, because he wasn’t going to ever see a bill.

It was because he felt uncomfortable, Bobby told me later, that he didn’t notice the man-and-woman surveillance team studying their table until he was nearly half-finished with his sandwich.

He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial drawl.

“Man and woman sitting at a table off your left shoulder,” he said.

“Oh, my bodyguards.” Nina spun in her chair and spoke to them across the restaurant. “How are you guys doing?”

The woman raised her wineglass in a salute. The man smiled and said, “Best job I’ve ever had.”

“If you need anything just let me know.”

“Thank you,” the woman said.

“Tell us when you’re ready to go back to the hospital,” the man said.

“Not for a while yet,” Nina said.

Nina turned to face Bobby again.

“Ron and Celeste,” she said. “They’re very nice. I think they’re sweet on each other. Greg Schroeder sent them.”

Bobby nodded as if he knew all along.

“There’s another sitting at the bar,” Nina said. “Steve.”

“I missed him.”

“I did, too, at first.”

“I’m glad they’re here.”

“Me, too.”

“Especially after what happened at the hospital,” Bobby said.

“What happened at the hospital?”

Bobby related the contents of a phone conversation he shared with Dr. Lillian Linder just a few minutes before he went to meet Nina and Shelby.

“They’re still after McKenzie,” Nina said. “Whoever they are.”

“Yes,” Bobby said.

“Why?”

“He’s vulnerable,” Shelby said.

They were the first words she had spoken in some time and they nearly startled her companions.

“What did you say?” Nina asked.

“Reinfeld. He’s vulnerable.”

“What does that mean?” Bobby asked.

“You said Reinfeld only spoke to Schroeder because he was afraid of Riley Muehlenhaus. That has to be nagging at him right now. He lost his nerve because of a freckle-faced young woman…”

“I like Riley’s freckles,” Nina said.

“That has to be driving an alpha male like him up the wall. He’ll want to do something about it. He’ll want to do something”—Shelby quoted the air above her head—“manly. Something to prove that he’s still a real man, a man’s man; a man that women want.”

“Like sending someone to threaten Nina?” Bobby asked. “Sending someone to threaten McKenzie some more?”

“If Reinfeld met the right woman right now, at this minute. A catch. A prize.” Shelby quoted the air again. “A trophy that other men would covet, he’d spill his guts.”

Bobby had to give it a few