"Hey Sara, how is my favorite crime scene tech this bright and cheerful day. Do you have any news on the sperm blood type?"
She ignored Mike's flattering comment. Sara Potter was all business, and the guys knew that. Because she was so serious, they loved to give her a hard time. "We are processing it right now and, with our new software, we can have final results in six to seven days on the DNA.
Since the specimen is older, my guess, it will be closer to the seven days. Then it might take several hours to match the perp to our data base. I'm sorry Mike, that's the best I can do."
"What do you mean old sperm?"
"The sperm sent to me was at least a week old, minimum."
"It couldn't have been, we found it immediately and saw the footprints in the snow. That verifies what we saw. The footprints were imprinted in the fresh snow right under the window."
"I'm sorry Mike, but I'm telling you that it's around a week old." Sara always got aggravated when they question her expertise. Never had she given them an answer until she was one-hundred-percent positive.
Mike sat there trying to think, comprehend what she just said. "Do you have the blood type of the sperm?"
"Yes hold on a minute." She left to get the chart, came back, and picked up the phone. "The male blood type is AB+, and the female blood type is A+."
"What do you mean by female?" Mike's didn't expect that answer at all. The state police missed the female blood type. He was glad he had Sara double-check the state's results.
"The sperm collected has two distinctive blood types, male and female." Sara was busy, and she got annoyed when Mike questioned her work. If he kept this up, it would be a long day.
"Sara, have you gotten the samples from the Border home?"
"Yes, I think we did get some," she answered while shuffling papers on her desk. "I don't have them in front of me. Let me call you back in a few minutes."
"If you don't mind, I'll wait on the phone."
She paused and thought a few minutes wouldn't be detrimental. Pushing the red hold button, she scoured through several offices before she found them. She picked up the phone and reconnected with Mike. "I have them in front of me fresh off the press. What do you want to know?"
"I want to know the blood type of Ms. Borders." He didn't know what answer he would get, but he had a hunch.
"Her blood type is A+."
"What was the blood type around her mouth?"
"Um, that is B-."
"So according to your records, sperm is AB+, and blood around her mouth is B-, and Ms.
Borders's blood type is A+, and the female blood type with the sperm is A+?" Maybe Quent was right, and there were two perps.
"I see where you're going with this. I'll run as many cross-references as I can. Great work Mike."
"I have one more blood type for you to run, and maybe her DNA."
"Who?"
"Lana. Can you send someone to collect it?"
"I'll call and see if anyone is at the Borders's house and have someone get a swab."
"Thanks, Sara. One more thing, could you find out if Mrs. Borders was raped? There might be two perps."
"I will find out for you and notify you when I get any news."
"I'll be expecting your call," he answered while writing down all the information she gave him.
When Lana walked in the living room, Mike was on the phone. Raymond and Joe were in
the kitchen looking out the window toward the Borders house. They debated on who got to play the villain. Under normal circumstances, both would want to go, but it was cold outside, so neither volunteered. They decided to flip a coin. When Raymond lost, he pulled rank and sent Joe.
Joe whined that the coin toss wasn't fair, all the while smiling. Then he commented, "I can't wait until we get a new guy then I can pull rank."
All the guys laughed.
Lana interrupted, "Hi guys, would you all like some breakfast?"
They looked at each other and said as the same time, "Yes ma'am."
She wondered how they stayed in such good shape eating out all the time. "I will cook you a feast if one of you guys will drive me to the grocery store."
Mike got off the phone and answered Lana from the living room, "I want French toast."
The other two agreed, and they added bacon, ham, and eggs.
"Which one of you will take me to the store?"
Mike raised his hand. He felt much better about the situation. The killings seemed to be someone after the Borders.
She walked over to him, put her arm through his, and said, "Okay tin man, let's follow the yellow brick road."
"We'll be back in about an hour or so." They were shocked Mike let her out of the house.
But if anyone could handle any situation in the field it would be him.
Raymond got on his walkie. "Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know there's going to be a 204 in 1015."
Lana knew they had codes, and she asked Mike, "What's a 204 and a 1015?"
Mike winked at the guys. "Well I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
"And what would be the code for that?" she asked as she raised her left eyebrow at Mike.
"That would be code 007," said Mike. The men laughed hysterically.
"What's so funny?" she asked.
"Come on babe, I'll tell you on the way." She looked at the guys and shrugged her shoulders.
They laughed harder.
He helped her with her coat, and when she glanced over at them, they laughed even harder.
"You better tell me, or you're not getting any breakfast."
The men laughed even harder.
They got in the car, and she noticed Mike looked all around to see if he could see anyone.
"Okay Mike, what are the codes?" Curiosity got the best of her. By now she was aggravated and didn't care about her surroundings. Besides, she was mad enough that no one better mess with her.
He rolled his head back with laughter. "Code 007 means hot girl that's dangerous. Code 204
means we are traveling with two or more, and a 1015 means they will be coming with fifteen minutes. They were laughing because you are hot but not dangerous. Sometimes, if we see a girl that looks hot, we'll get on the walkie and say 007 and then give our location."
"Oh… really! Well you just wait until I bake you guys some brownies with ex-lax. Then my code will be number two. We'll see how dangerous I can be."
"Oh no, please don't do that! I only have two bathrooms. We're getting close to the media, please duck down honey." As they drove by a house that had a few TV vans no one was outside, but she got low so they couldn't see her. She stayed low for about half a mile.
*****
Stop & Shop grocery store was much bigger than Sam's grocery and much newer. This store was in a strip mall with about ten other small shops. The biggest stores were Best Buy, a liquor store, shoe store, and a tobacco store.
They held hands as they walked in and acted as though they didn't have a care in the world.
"Okay babe, what would you like besides French toast?" She asked.
"Um, I'm thinking ham and eggs, or maybe an omelet? I loved the omelet you cooked the other day." He didn't want to overexert her considering what happened yesterday.
"Babe, you can have an omelet if you want one. We just have to go to the vegetable aisle."
The vegetable area did impress her. It was fixed up like a large Hawaiian hut with a handwritten sign that read veggie stand.
While they walked around and checked out the vegetables, Mike asked, "Do you think we could have shrimp tonight or tomorrow? I know you don't like it, but the guys do."
"Hey, you are on your own if you want shrimp. I don't even like to cook it." Once she gave it some thought, and after all, Mike and the guys liked shrimp, so how could she refuse. She changed her mind. "Okay, I'll grill it if you do the prep work. I know the guys would like grilled shrimp. I'll marinade it in Italian dressing a couple of hours, it will be delicious."
"That's a deal." He ran like a little kid to the fish counter to buy jumbo shrimp. His mouth started watering just thinking about grilled shrimp. Life with Lana would be so different compared to life with Kathy. Kathy didn't like to cook. When they first married they didn't have the money to eat out much. All they ate were hamburgers and chips. Since Kathy worked at a fast food restaurant, and her burgers were delicious, but that was the only thing she knew how to cook. Later when they had a little more money he made it a point to grab something on the way home. He smiled thinking back about his kids calling him at work and asking, "Daddy, what will you bring home for dinner tonight?" Yep, life would a lot different with Lana, a difference he liked.
They bought stuff for lasagna, shrimp, and chili. She looked at all this food, both carts full.
"Mike, do you realize I get on a plane in a few days? I'm not sure I can cook all this in less than a week."
"Nope you're not leaving, I have handcuffs."
A lady at the end of the counter turned around and looked at them as though they were crazy. Then she waddled away with her cart while looking over her shoulder at them.
He kissed her on her forehead and said, "Honey this is only enough food for a couple of days. Remember there will be several men in and out of the house. We'll probably have half the marshal's office here when they find out we're cooking shrimp."
"I'm in such a good mood, I could cook all day. I feel great."
"I'm sure glad you feel better… it shows in your eyes."
"My noggin hurts. I'm okay as long as I don't bend over, that's when it hurts the most, when the blood rushes to my head."
Mike put on his John Wayne impression. He put his hands on his hips and then walked like John Wayne. "Well little lady, if you need to bend over to get stuff, just call me… and I'll watch."
She smacked his arm and said, "You butt."
They acted silly going to the car. Both pushed overloaded baskets. He jokingly played bumper carts with her. He rolled his head back with laughter watching her. She grunted trying to push and pull her cart. The entire time her tongue stuck out as if that would help. He easily moved his with one arm. Every few feet he made a point to bump her cart pushing it back to where she started.
She whined, "Mike that's not fair I have heavier groceries than you. I think we should trade carts."
"Do you really think that would help?" But he did take her cart and pull it.
They loaded the groceries in the back of the SUV, laughing, when all of a sudden she started sneezing. Between sneezes, she noticed someone sitting in a car. There he was — the mystery man — staring right at her, three rows over on her right. She screamed. "Mike there's the man, and he's in that black car." She pointed to the car.
The man took off immediately. He drove off like a mad man and almost ran over several people and cars. Mike ran after him, but the man got away. He ran several aisles over but couldn't catch him. "That was totally unexpected. Are you okay?"
"Of course I am, did you get a look at him, and did you get a license plate?"
"I only saw him for a second, and honey he didn't look like anything you described. How in the hell did he know we were here? I worked every maneuver I was trained to do to detect anyone following me…" he paused and thought for a minute. "…He must have some kind of tracking device planted on the one of us." He made a phone call to Raymond. "Lana and I will be there in about fifteen minutes. I want you to call the tech department and have someone come to the beach house to run a sweep. We just saw the guy at the grocery store, and there is no way he would know we'd be there unless he was tracking us. Also call Shop Rite and see if they have any roof cameras." Mike's face changed from happy-go-lucky to cop mode—his eyes hardened.
Raymond wrote down all the orders Mike gave him, "I'll call them and have them come right away. One more thing, I called all the TV stations to get their coverage of the police department. They won't give it to us unless we grant them an exclusive. I checked with the police department, and no cameras faced the media or the far side of the street. I'll see you in a few minutes."
"Copy that." Now, the most urgent task for Mike to accomplish was to get Lana back to the beach house. Mike knew his guys would know what to do to protect her. From this point on his only concern was to take care of Lana.
*****
"Mike, do you mind if I start breakfast?"
"Of course, I can't wait." He reached over to kiss her and instead blew a squeegy on her neck.
All the men held their noses. "What's that smell?" Her face turned red, and she didn't know why. Having these guys around was like having younger brothers always tormenting her.
She got busy mixing the batter for the French toast and sautéing the mushrooms, onions, peppers, and ham for the omelets. She put the bacon in the oven to cook. The coffee and sweet tea was made. A dozen eggs were whipped and seasoned for scrambling. The onions were sautéed for hash browns. Then she poured herself some coffee with cream and savored those few moments.
The guys walked in the kitchen sniffing the aroma, making excuses to help. Joe's excuse was to catch Lana if she fainted. Mike's excuse was to cut up the veggies. Raymond's excuse was to get some coffee.
Everyone got quiet when the crew came in to run the sweep. In a short five minutes, she heard a beep. She didn't have to be told what that meant. To find out what all the commotion was about, she peeked in the bedroom. They had found a little chip in her purse. "Did you find the tracking device?" She asked as she looked at the men.
"Yes." Mike's face turned angry. He glanced at Raymond and Joe. They had no doubt now.
He was after Lana. Everyone's heart sank. They were trained to handle problems. Lana wasn't.
"He knows everyplace we've been?" She saw the looks the guys gave each other, and she saw Mike's eyes harden. Worry was written all over their faces.
"I'm assuming he knows everywhere we've been. Honey, I want you to think real hard and try to remember how you know this guy. Think about anyone that might have made you feel uncomfortable in the last week or so. Was there anyone who got close to your purse?"
She thought for a minute, wringing her hands. "Mike, I don't remember. I've bumped into many people the past several days, and I don't remember where I saw his face. I just don't remember!"
Mike motioned the team to leave. "Okay guys, keep sweeping in the living room and let me know if you find anything else." Mike waited for them to leave. "Baby, I know you're upset, but it's important to remember where you know this man. Do you know him from home or here?"
"I don't remember. Honey, I wish I could remember." Her eyes filled with tears.
"Let's get some food in your stomach, and we'll go from there—how does that sound?"
"It sure won't hurt." She was totally confused why anyone would want to follow her.
*****
"This food is so good Ms. Andrews." The guys loved breakfast.
"I'm glad you like it," she answered not concentrating. For some reason, she felt overwhelmed, so she excused herself and walked into the bedroom. Tears flowed uncontrollably.
She was mad at herself because she couldn't remember.
After a few minutes, when Lana didn't return, Mike left to check on her. Once they found the tracking device, he noticed how her demeanor had changed. He slowly opened the door and saw her crying. It broke his heart. "Babe, are you okay?"
Immediately, she gave him a hug and sobbed in his shoulder.
"Just let it all out, baby."
Her entire body was drained, and it shook uncontrollably; she didn't think she had an ounce of anything left.
He just held her and rubbed her back, trying to soothe her.
Never in her life had she felt this vulnerable. "Mike, I need to tell you something," she said while looking into his eyes, still crying. "I never told you the reason I had to get away. Why I left Tennessee."
He didn't know what was coming, but he didn't want to act surprised either. His gut told him that she was about to tell him about an old boyfriend who had been stalking her for years. "Why did you leave Tennessee?"
"A few weeks ago my cousin died of a massive heart attack. We were very close, our entire family is close. His death was devastating to us all. His wife Sharon had his breathing machine turned off, and I held his hand while his heart stopped. I could feel his last heartbeat through my fingers. All this happened less than four weeks ago." The tears kept flowing.
Quietly, he sat there and listened. Her words cut his heart like a knife. He had held his wife's hand when she died.
She took a deep breath and kept going. "His name was James. All his life he wanted a sports car and we decided to look at one the next Saturday. On that Tuesday, I stopped by a few places and got some brochures on sports cars, to surprise him. I thought I would drop them off at his house. When I rang the doorbell, there was no answer. Although I saw his car in the drive, I put the brochures in the mailbox. Mike, he was lying in the living room—dying. If I would have used my key and gone inside, he might be alive today." She couldn't help herself—she just let her confession roll off her tongue. "After the funeral I was so depressed I couldn't function. I felt such guilt. I thought the best thing for me was to get away and clear my mind, and that's why I'm here. So you can see how everything has overwhelmed me. My emotions were already fragile when I got here."
Mike held her close. "Baby, I'm here for you, and I'll carry that burden for you. I know what it's like to lose family. What happened to your cousin has absolutely nothing to do with you and it isn't your fault. I can assure you that James would have felt the same way as I do."
"I can't help but feel some guilt."
"Honey you shouldn't. It was a horrible incident, and it wasn't your fault." This story filled his mind with his own memories of helplessness and guilt with his wife. He watched his wife die of breast cancer. He always wondered what he could have done differently. What if he stayed home more? He knew exactly how Lana felt.
"Once I decided to take a vacation; I mentally told myself from the moment I stepped on the airplane I planned to relax and write down all my feelings. Then my last night here I planned to burn my journal in the fireplace, and that would be a whole new start for me."
Mike got up to get her some Kleenex. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes then continued,
"As a matter of fact, I started writing on my laptop while I sat on the plane—OH MIKE—the plane."
"What are you talking about, what plane?"
"That is where I saw that guy, on the plane. He walked up and sat with me at the gate, umm… gate 14. Then he wanted to sit with me on the plane, and I said no. I can't believe I didn't remember that. He had every opportunity to touch my purse."
"Did he ever tell you his name?"
"I think so … umm … I think… oh Mike, I can't remember." She tried to think real hard, but she couldn't remember. It had been several days, and a lot had happened since then.
"That's okay, we have it narrowed down to your flight." Mike squeezed her hand and got busy doing what he did best, being a great cop. He made one last glance over his shoulder and said to her, "Babe, you are doing great." He immediately got his phone out, called his office and had the tech people run a check on the passenger list. "Babe we have an advantage he doesn't know about," said Mike smiling.
"What's that?"
"Your uncanny ability to remember faces."
"Mike."
"What?"
"He sat toward the front, the first few rows. I don't know if that helps you any."
"It helps a lot." He went out to the kitchen and told the guys about their conversation. All the people in Boston heard them whooping and hollering as Mike told them the good news. Then Mike gave orders and everyone got busy. Raymond was told get a passenger list. Joe headed to the airport to get video and Mike got on the phone to Sara to see if she got any fingerprints from the beach house and the Borders house.
Mike walked back in the bedroom. "Babe, I'm sorry I left so abruptly, but I had to get the ball rolling. Are you feeling better?" Although he was giving orders, his heart was with her.
"Some, yes, and I want you to know I'm not normally a cry-baby, but it has been a stressful couple of weeks."
"Honey, you don't have to explain. I think you are doing great. I have to say how impressed I am with your memory of faces. I've been in this business for years, and never has anyone had a memory like yours. When Joe gets back, we'll send him over to the Borders to get an idea of how tall the killer is. So, in a little while I'll need your help again."
"You got it, just let me know when." She was proud of herself for remembering. Relief flooded her. She couldn't believe how much weight was lifted off her shoulders. She felt like a new woman.
As Mike walked out he glanced back and asked, "By the way, what is your blood type?"
She was totally confused by the question but answered, "A+ Why?"
"I wanted to make a mental note just in case someone asks."
"Oh, okay," she said confused.
Mike joined Raymond who was sitting at their makeshift desk, working on the computer.
"What cha' got?" Raymond asked without looking up from the computer.
"Lana's blood type is A+," Mike whispered.
Mike had his full attention with that statement. "Do you think it's her blood type on the wall?"
Mike shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I'm going to have to ask her if she is missing any dirty underwear. She's in the bedroom crying."
"Why?"
"She thinks she has put us in danger."
"Did you tell her we live like this every day? We thrive on danger."
"I will, but when she started crying, I just let her talk."
"Good move. But Mike, the more we know the better. Keep in mind that Ms. Borders's blood type is A+."
"I know. In your opinion, who do you think the blood type belongs to?" Mike asked.
"I think it belongs to Ms. Borders. Think about it. There was enough for Sara to find, and I don't think she could get that much just from worn underwear. And Mike, I don't want to get personal, but I think your blood type would have shown up along with Lana's."
"True, unless he had got the underwear before we were intimate."
"Did she ever mention anyone being around before the wood was delivered?" Raymond asked while taking notes.
"She did mention she had the creeps several times since she's been here. She said it wasn't like her to get so scared all the time."
"Being out here with no one around can give anyone the creeps. Have you been listening to the wind today? It's giving me the creeps."
"I can tell you this much, she's not leaving this house until we catch this guy. I'm so afraid he'll follow her home."
"I agree, but I don't want you to worry. We'll catch him or them." He put his hand on Mike's shoulder and gave him a pat.
*****
Crying out her feelings made her feel better. She washed her face and sat on the bed for a little while. When she felt somewhat better, she decided to get busy and clean the kitchen, anything to keep her mind off the problem at hand. Everything was quiet when she walked out of the bedroom, except for Mike talking on the phone. She rolled up her sleeves on the way to the kitchen. To her surprise the kitchen was spotless. At that moment, she decided to adopt the team.
They were gun-toting house cleaners. It didn't get any better than that.
Quietly she turned on the TV and sat down on the couch with the remote, surfing the
channels. Since Mike was on the phone, she muted the volume.
When he hung up, he kissed her on the neck and ran his hand down her leg. He could tell she had cried a lot, and that broke his heart. Other women crying never bothered him. Several months ago he had dated a girl named Brenda for about three months. He knew it wasn't going anywhere, so he decided to end their relationship. He didn't know how to end it, so he invited her over for grilled burgers. They ate and then he told her that it was over between them. She cried, but he didn't care—he just wanted her to go home. If he had to do it all over, he would have gone to her house, told her and left. All the women in his past always cried, but it didn't bother him.
He cared for them, and hated they were upset. But once the door shut—it was all over, or at least in his mind. If Lana walked out, he would be the one crying. Deep down he knew Lana was his for life. He asked her, "How are you holding up honey?"
"I'm better." She was deep in thought about all that was going on in her life. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"How do you work this kind of stuff all the time? I'm stressed beyond belief, and you and the guys act as though this is everyday stuff, or am I just imagining it?"
"As a U.S Marshall, we deal with crime every day. Honey, we are adrenaline junkies and the more bizarre and dangerous it is, the better we like it. I will admit not all cases fall into place as well as this. Think about it, we've had a couple of different crimes happen to us in the last several days. You can see how we're putting it all together. We love the stress and action of it all. My team is great, and we know how to get results. That's part of police work; you may have ten suspects, and it dwindles down to one or two or sometimes we have to start all over from the beginning."
"Do you deal with the witness protection area? I might need it."
"Now why would you think you might need witness protection?"
"If you don't catch this guy—he might kill me unless I vanish."
Those words hurt Mike to the core. He hated the idea that Lana had to think of taking such drastic measures. "Squirt, don't you worry because we will catch him. I've worked on the fugitive investigative strike team. This is what I used to do, so I know exactly what I'm doing," he reassured her.
*****
The room got loud as several agents entered the front door, all talking about the case. Mike was right, they were adrenaline junkies. Excitement filled the air every time they put a piece of the puzzle together. Her favorite agent was Joe. Every time something happened his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. She also noticed he was more kindhearted than the other agents. Raymond was undeniably Mike's right-hand man. Raymond seemed to be about ten years younger than Mike. His personality seemed more like Mike's, more so than the other agents.
Both were quiet and to the point. Raymond was the only one married, or at least the only one wearing a wedding band.
Everyone got quiet when she walked in the kitchen. She was embarrassed that she
interrupted their serious conversation. "You all don't have to be quiet on my account, unless you're talking shop talk."
Mike answered with authority and professionalism, "Actually we are talking about something very important."
"I'm sorry I interrupted, I'll go to the bedroom and watch TV. I don't want to bother you,"
she said with all sincerity.
The guys laughed. "Honey we're talking about what we are going to have for lunch."
"That was mean, but that's fine—I got the stuff to make lasagna, salad and a cheesecake. But since you want to hurt my feelings I'll just go be by myself," she said winking at Joe.
Joe caught on quick. "I think lasagna sounds fantastic. You guys need to leave her alone and quit teasing her. Lana, I would never tease you."
She thought that was the first time he had ever used her first name.
Raymond snarled at Joe, "Teacher's pet!"
Everyone laughed. "Okay guys scoot, and I'll make some lunch."
Mike scooped her up in his arms, swung her around in a circle and said, "Honey you are the best, I'm starving, and I know the guys are. I cannot wait to try your lasagna. What do you want me t