For Blood or Money - Cover

For Blood or Money

Copyright© 2019 by Wayzgoose

Chapter 17: Bone-Chilling Cold

I WOKE UP ALONE IN A COLD BED. Peg had been gone for some time. My clothes, fresh from the cleaners were hung on the back of the door. The shoes were going to be a pain. She’d filled them with crinkled newspaper and sat them next to a register to dry, but they were stiff and tight. As I put them on, I noticed her sexy boots sitting beside them. They were ruined. She dove into the river to save me, and somehow I had emerged intact. I examined the brand and size.

A note was sitting next to the things she had taken from my pockets on the dressing table. It was simple and to the point.

“Dag, it was a lovely time (except for the bath). Help yourself to coffee and anything in the fridge before you go. The door will lock behind you automatically. Kisses, Peg”

She was not expecting me to be here when she got back.

She was not expecting anything.

I sneezed. A cold, acquired, no doubt, from my dip in the river and subsequent fever, was settling into my head and chest. Just the thing the doctor warned me against. It would be a great flight back to Seattle.

I gathered my things and checked them off. Dead cell phone. Dead GPS transmitter. Keys. Wallet, dried beside my shoes. Credit cards and cash all there. In the kitchen, I cleaned up the remains of last night’s delivered food and washed the dishes. I looked around and found the pad of paper she had used for my note. I wrote simply.

“Peg, thanks for reviving me. I have to fly back to Seattle, but I’ll be thinking of you. Hugs, Dag”

Some things you simply don’t put in writing. I called Jordan and he was waiting at the front door of the apartment building when I left. He lectured me soundly on going out without backup and said he was glad I had survived. Riley would have held him personally responsible if anything had happened to me. We went by my hotel and picked up the remainder of my clothes and roll-aboard. I got him to stop at an electronics superstore, and bought a new laptop, a GPS transmitter, and a cell phone. On the way to the airport, I put the things I needed from the computer box in my bag and activated the GPS transmitter. I called Riley from the phone and realized that everything I had would need to be charged before I used them for long, but it wasn’t like the bad old days when you couldn’t turn a new device on without charging the battery first.

“What are the arrangements?” I asked Riley on the phone.

“I’ve got you booked back to Seattle with a plane change in Minneapolis,” she answered.

“Weren’t there any direct flights?” I asked.

“Travel agent’s discretion,” she answered. “This may prove to be nothing, but I got a call last night from the airplane leasing company. Simon’s plane has been routed to Minneapolis.” She left unspoken the assumption that I would want to be there.

“That’s interesting,” I answered, “but I can’t imagine how I’d go about finding Simon’s plane in Minneapolis. There must be more than one airport there.” It was intriguing, but, damn it, I was tired. I’d nearly drowned, I was sick, and I wanted to go home.

“Angel’s flying to Minneapolis late this morning.” She dropped that bomb on me and waited for my reaction. I was too numb to react.

“Good work, Riley. Watch my new GPS.”

This time I checked my flights carefully. There was a new hollowness inside me, along with the cold and a feeling of getting old all too quickly. In Minneapolis, I found a place near the gate where I could plug in the phone and computer. I logged onto the Internet and looked up the brand of the sexy boots Peg had been wearing when I met her. I ordered a new pair in her size and had them shipped to her.

I’d been sitting in the gate area for nearly an hour, having heard the announcement that the incoming flight from Seattle was late and we would depart about half an hour later than scheduled. The gate agent picked up a mic and announced that the flight had just arrived from Seattle and passengers would deplane shortly.

I began packing up my equipment and just looked up as the passengers were coming off the flight. The double-take I did was mimicked by nearly every man in the gate area. Leading the line of people getting off the plane was Angel Woodward. Riley had done her work well. I snatched up my roll-aboard and fell in with the line of people headed toward baggage claim. Just the glow on Angel’s face told me everything I needed to know. She had to be in Minneapolis to meet Simon. I stayed well back from her in the crowd, but she was hard to miss as she strode along in high heels that put her height at well above mine.

She wasn’t carrying anything but her handbag and small roll-aboard like my own, but she skirted the baggage claim carousels and headed for the metro train stop in the lower concourse. I stopped long enough at a machine to buy a ticket and stepped onto the train at the back of the car she entered. I was going to have to be careful here. I was sure that she could recognize me if she had paid any attention at all that night we faced each other in an all-night diner. I looked around uneasily, thinking that she might have a bodyguard with her even here. I didn’t spot Davy.

Angel rode the southbound train to its last stop—The Mall of America—and headed for Bloomingdale’s. I followed more closely because the crowds in the Mall were insane. Huge displays for the holidays were already up and the stores were playing Christmas music over their loudspeakers. Santa Claus and The Polar Express had already arrived and were doing a booming business.

I watched as Angel selected at least two dozen outfits from several areas, mostly in sports and casual clothing. Then with a saleswoman in tow, she headed for the dressing rooms. Conveniently, the men’s shoe department was located in the line of sight from the dressing rooms and I walked over to get a new pair of shoes so I could ditch the stiff pair that was still not completely dry from the river dowsing. I was being fitted when I saw the sales woman come out with a load of the clothes that Angel had taken in. She draped them over a counter and ran out to pick out at least a dozen more outfits to take back in to Angel.

My cell phone rang and I quickly silenced it and ducked down in case Angel glanced toward the sound. It was Riley. She wanted to know why I was at the Mall of America.

“I followed Angel,” I answered. “This could be a waste of time. It looks like she’s just on a shopping trip.”

“Dag, I’m worried about you.”

“Riley, I’ve already decided not to die on this trip. That last brush was close enough. I’ll be careful, and you keep watching me on TV.”

I paid for the shoes and chose a hat from the nearby men’s department and picked up a heavy overcoat as well. It was cold in Minneapolis and my hat, at least, hadn’t made it out of the river with me. If I’d been wearing an overcoat in Chicago, chances are that Peg never would have pulled me out of the River. Of course, adding the coat and hat to my outfit would throw Angel if she caught a glimpse of me on the train. I hardly looked like the same man now.

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