Chapter 4

"We need a redhead," said Dawn. She and Thule were lying in bed together, morning sunlight slanting in through the high windows.

Thule, who was still only half awake, said, "What?"

"Well," said Dawn, stretching against him. "You've got a blonde and a brunette. I've got a blonde and a brunette. We need a redhead."

Thule scowled as fiercely as he could manage, "I do not choose my lovers with an eye towards completing a set. Besides," he stroked her back, "I had a redhead. I still haven't had time for the follow-up therapy."

"Mmmm," said Dawn. "Actually, Mrs. Vandevoort is in Boston now, isn't she?"

"Thank you, wildcat," said Thule. "For the first time ever, I think I went almost two days without remembering that fact."

"So, I guess she's out?" said Dawn, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I don't think I know any other redheads in Boston."

"And here I thought you were going to try to strong-arm me into inviting Oksana to move in," said Thule, rising from the bed. "Or, maybe you'd found some red-headed stray that you thought would make a nice roommate for Lin. Incidentally, where the hell are our clothes?"

"Mine are in the room with the pool table," said Dawn. "Yours are probably making a path between here and there. Are you really mad about that?"

"Well," said Thule. "I would have liked to finish our pool game. But, it was a rather memorable way to end one."

"I meant about moving Lin in here," said Dawn. "I didn't think you would mind."

"I don't mind," said Thule. "I just don't like being put on the spot with big questions like that."

"I'm sorry," said Dawn. "It just reminded me a lot of my own situation junior year. I was living at home as little as possible. That was part of why my standards were so low for friends. I spent a lot of nights crashing anywhere that I could if I didn't have to go home. Besides, it never occurred to me that you might have a problem speaking your mind."

"I wouldn't," said Thule. "I also don't mind Lin living here. I just wanted to make sure you were okay with it before she moved in. Still, a little tact when addressing the big questions would be appreciated."

"All right, Thule."

"So," asked Thule, retrieving clothes from his chest of drawers, "what do you think about kids?"

Dawn's head whipped around, "What?"

"Kids," said Thule. "What do you think about them? Are you planning to have any?"

"I, uh..." said Dawn. "I... hadn't really decided about kids yet. Until a year ago, I thought I might be a lesbian."

"Oh," said Thule, going to his closet for more clothes.

Dawn watched him as if waiting for him to say more. When Thule didn't, she went on, "I think a lot of it would depend on what our plans are for the future--yours, mine, and Marigold's. Does Marigold want to have kids?"

"I think so," said Thule. "The last time we talked about it, she did. We haven't really discussed it much since you entered the picture."

Dawn nodded, "Thule, what are our plans for the future?"

Thule laid his clothes on the bed, "Could I ask yours first?"

Dawn shook her head, "Mine are too dependent on my options. And, I don't know what my options are."

Thule leaned down, wrapped an arm around her waist, dragged her on her knees across the bed, and kissed her firmly on the mouth, "I want to keep you for as long as you'll have me and Marigold as long as she'll have me. I'll not give up one for the other. I'll have you and the vixen, too. If I can find a way to marry both of you, I will. I can very easily imagine myself as a father one day, but I don't intend to seriously consider it until I'm twenty-five and out of college."

Dawn had wrapped her arms around his neck. Now, she smiled up at him, "That all sounds good to me. But, why bring it up now?"

"It's been on my mind," said Thule. "And I thought it would be nice to ambush you with a big question for a change." He kissed her, "Besides, we've been together over a year and not discussed it."

"Thule," said Dawn quietly, resting her head on his shoulder. "I know that, in the real world, where you can only marry one of us... I understand why it should be Marigold."

Thule swept her up in both arms, crushing her to his chest, and lifting her bodily out of bed, "Don't count on it, wildcat. The world may surprise us yet."

-=-

Whatever people might believe about Thule, he wasn't prescient. He woke up the next morning, sunlight streaming in his window and Dawn wrapped in his arms, and decided it was going to be a pretty good day. The sentiment lasted until he got to the office.

"Boss," said Matika. She never called him that unless there was a problem.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not breaking stride on his way to his desk.

"We got a call from Anders," she said. "The Jersey City PD found a body they think is Ioke. Her parents are being asked to identify it."

"It can't be her," said Thule immediately. "She was kidnapped. A half dozen girls disappeared with her. It must be a mistake."

"Maybe," said Matika, not sounding convinced.

Thule took the manila folder she'd half offered him, opened it and started to read, "This is all wrong. The body they found was 5'2" and of Japanese descent. Ioke's Hawaiian and 5'6"."

Matika nodded, "That coroner says it may also have been Polynesian. Sometimes, it can be hard to tell."

Thule continued to read, "It doesn't add up. This changes nothing."

"All right, Boss," said Matika. "If you're sure..."

Thule interrupted her, "It doesn't add up. It's not just that I don't want it to be her. It doesn't make sense. So, until we know one way or another, everything goes forward as it was."

"Sure," said Matika quietly. "That makes sense."

As she was leaving, Thule said, "Matika, let me know the instant there's a definite answer. I'm not that sure."

"You've got it," said Matika.

"And get Masha in here."

Matika nodded and left. When Masha entered, he barked, "Have you gotten a hold of Marigold yet?"

"No," said Masha. "I left a message on Roscoe's phone to call us back when he gets it, but it's not even ringing. That usually means..."

"I know," said Thule. "It's underground, dead, or the one-week battery has run down. Thank you, Masha."

Thule managed to get nearly an hour of useful work done before he found himself pacing. He called Matika on the intercom, "Any word yet?"

"No," said Matika. Her voice was gentle, "I'll call you as soon as there is anything."

"All right," said Thule. "I've got some interviews to conduct today. But, I'll have my cell phone with me. Don't worry about what you're interrupting."

"You've got it," said Matika.

Thule still hadn't stopped pacing, "And ask Masha to cancel whatever I'm scheduled for this morning. I'll be in the basement."

The only person in the basement when Thule got there was Helene. She was lying on an inclined weight bench, her forehead glistening with sweat. As he approached, she sat up, "Hey, Thule. Need a spotter?"

Thule was about to decline. He liked Helene well enough, but she'd developed a crush on him the day he walked into FBI headquarters more than a year ago and wasn't shy about expressing it. Normally, her flirtation was harmless and amusing. Today, Thule didn't think he was up to it. Still, he didn't have a spotter and had planned on working with the free weights. So, he nodded, "All right."

She stood at the head of his bench, "I know I'm not Jake, but..."

Thule shook his head, "It's just as well. I'm afraid I won't be good company this morning. The fewer people I growl at, the better."

"Growl at me all you like," offered Helene. "I can take it."

Thule shook his head, "I don't want to growl at anyone really."

"What's up?"

Thule lay down and gripped the bar, "We got a report from Jersey City PD that a body was found they think is Ioke."

"Well," said Helene, her hands hovering around the bar in case Thule couldn't handle it. "I wouldn't get too worked up about it until they get a positive ID. There are a lot of false positives with missing persons and those cops in Jersey City are a bunch of fuck-ups anyway."

Thule chuckled in spite of himself, "I think you've said that about every police department we've ever discussed."

"Well," said Helene. "Jersey City are some of the worst."

Thule found that he didn't have the energy to pursue that line of inquiry, so he asked, "What are you up to now that you're not consulting on Randy's case?"

"Well," she said. "I'm still collaborating on Ivan's case and it looks to be a humdinger. That only takes up about fifteen hours a week right now, though. Most of the rest of the time, I'm clearing out my backlog of paperwork and throwing in where an extra hand is needed."

"Really?" asked Thule.

"Uh oh," said Helene. "What did I just volunteer for?"

Thule chuckled again, "I got the impression you were interested in working more on the investigative side."

"Absolutely," said Helene. "Once I finish finals, I'm planning on getting my PI's license, particularly since you're paying for it."

"Well," said Thule. "I need some help on the Medeforte case. Would you be interested?"

"Interested?" asked Helene. "If it weren't so workplace inappropriate, I could kiss you for offering."

Thule laughed, "When have you ever worried about workplace appropriate? Not..." he added quickly, "that I'm suggesting you kiss me to prove a point. But, you've always been kind of a maverick."

Helene grinned, "I was hoping you would notice."

"It's kind of hard to miss."

"In this place?" asked Helene. "Are you kidding? Everybody in this goddamned company is a maverick. It makes it hard for a girl to leave her mark."

"Well, we do hire a lot of original thinkers," admitted Thule. "But, try to keep it down. I keep dreading the day some bigger firm offers our brain trust more money and we start to lose them."

Now, Helene laughed, "That fear is based on two faulty premises."

"All right," said Thule. "I'm listening."

"The first is that bigger companies really want original thinkers. They don't. Trust me. I looked for private sector stuff before I got recruited for the bureau. They punish original thinkers out there."

"All right," said Thule. "I grant your first point."

"And second," said Helene. "Who do you think would really leave here for more money?"

"There are plenty of people here who aren't happy," said Thule. "Some don't like my leadership style or decisions I've made. Some of them even spy on us for outside interests."

Helene nodded, "I'm sure there are. But, they're the new people, the ones who haven't been fully integrated into the company yet. The brain trust works here first and foremost because there are no other jobs in the world like this. And they want to work with you. I know I wouldn't want to work anywhere else, no matter how much they offered me."

Thule nodded and seated the bar back on the bench, "Add forty pounds to that. I really want to feel the burn today."

-=-

Jake came downstairs when Thule was doing his next set of reps. He announced himself by saying, "Ack! I've been replaced by a younger, prettier woman. I knew this day would come."

"I told you this would happen if you didn't shave your legs," said Thule.

"Vil's upstairs looking for you," said Jake.

"Shit," said Thule. "I forgot to tell Masha not to cancel with him. We've got the strategy meeting, don't we?"

Jake nodded, "He's a bit early, though. He was asking for you."

Thule nodded, "Could you bring him down here?"

Jake turned on his heel, "You got it, boss."

As he receded up the stairs, Thule reseated the bar. Helene asked, "Did that do anything for your tension?"

"Not much," admitted Thule as he sat up.

"Need a rub-down?" asked Helene. "Matika says I give the best she's ever had."

"Now, that image is definitely workplace inappropriate."

Helene laughed, "Thule, what does the sign over the hot tub say?"

"If I remember correctly, it says 'Tops are to be worn at all times.'"

"And why would we need a sign like that?"

"As I remember," said Thule. "It was to combat a sudden drop in productivity when some employees decided that there was no better way in the world to relax after a long day of work than to climb into the tub and take their tops off."

Helene nodded, "One of the things I love about this place... and the Roemer building to a lesser degree is that no one gives much of a shit about workplace appropriateness. It would be a shame if that changed."

-=-

Thule was pleased to discover that the avenue of investigation Vil Umanski suggested for the Medeforte case did not vary markedly from the one he'd come up with on his own. The meeting was quick enough that they were able to meet the first person they had to interview for lunch.

"My goodness," said Vanessa Phuong when they sat down at the table around her. "I hope I don't disappoint you. But, I don't really have enough information to require four people to listen."

Vanessa was a beautiful, exotic woman in her late thirties, part Cambodian part Vietnamese and half Sudanese. She was Medeforte's lead recruiter for the Eastern United States and, like many of Medeforte's top recruiters, had been a member of his harem some fifteen years before. She now ran a modeling agency that, while not terribly large, was well-known both as a class operation and for having produced more supermodels per capita than any other agency you cared to name.

Thule knew all of this because he'd been briefed by Melinda. He also knew that, as charming and disarming as she was, Vanessa might also be the leak in Medeforte's organization. He said, "This is the early part of the investigation. We just want everyone here so that we're on all on the same page."

Vanessa smiled, "You must be Thule. I've seen you on television. I don't know who your tall, handsome friend is, but I presume that the young ladies are Dawn and Marigold."

"Actually," said Thule. "This is Dawn and Helene. Dawn is here as my business protege. Helene is an investigator. And this is Jake. He's here in case things get rough."

"Well," said Vanessa, making eye contact with Jake. "I do hope you don't have to manhandle me. I'm resilient, but I bruise like a peach."

Thule watched Jake for how he would respond. One of Vil's strategy points was that most people became more talkative if they thought they were going to be menaced, but many became less talkative once you actually threatened them. So, for the most part, Jake's job would be to stand around and look like he could hurt people. This interview was supposed to be easy. So, they were using it as a dry run.

Jake gave Vanessa a disarming smile, "I don't leave marks."

"Oh, I like him," Vanessa said, smiling. "Where did you find him?"

"Remainder sale," deadpanned Thule.

"Well, I do hope I can help you," said Vanessa. "I can't tell you how angry this whole, ugly business has made me."

Thule got a momentary puzzled look on his face, but hid it as quickly as he could. Listening to Vanessa, he knew she had a cultured Colonial accent, but any time he let his concentration slip even a little, he started to imagine that he heard Melinda's mellifluous pronunciation. With everything going on, the last thing Thule needed was to be fixating on a woman. He pushed the thoughts of Melinda aside and forced himself to focus.

"At this point," said Thule. "We're just trying to structure our investigation. Melinda indicated that you would probably have the best sense of what was a good direction and what was a waste of our time."

Vanessa nodded, "I'm completely at your disposal."

Thule tensed a little at that word, but went on, "You run a modeling agency here in Boston?"

Vanessa nodded, "After I left Mr. Medeforte's employ, I founded the Gossamer Agency. We're small, but known for the beauty and professionalism of our models."

Thule nodded, "And you use this agency to recruit women for Mr. Medeforte?"

Vanessa shook her head, a small frown appearing on her face, "No. I explicitly do not use the agency for other recruiting. My experience is that some parents respond very badly to their daughters being offered the opportunity to work for Sean. If I used my agency in that way, I would have far fewer parents willing to trust me to work with their girls."

"So, none of your models have ever gone through the application process?"

"Only one," said Vanessa. "That was Melinda. And, I only allowed it after a great deal of soul searching. She approached me for modeling work when she was fifteen, but always intended to apply with Mr. Medeforte. When I found out that she had deliberately used me, I was rather cross. But, she was a charming little girl and I found it impossible to stand between her and what she wanted."

"Did she actually model for you?" Thule asked.

Vanessa nodded, "Yes. She showed a good deal of promise too. Besides being beautiful and poised, she was very serious-minded, even at fifteen. I can send you a copy of her portfolio if you like."

"Err, yes," said Thule. "Thank you."

They ate for a few minutes while Thule tried to remember where he'd been going with that line of questioning. Something approaching casual chit-chat ensued.

"Dawn," said Vanessa. "I don't know what your plans are, but if you're open to some new options, you should give me a call." She produced a business card.

Dawn looked at the card, "Thanks for the offer. But, I'm already in a harem. Besides, my GPA wouldn't have been high enough for Mr. Medeforte."

Vanessa laughed, "Actually, I was thinking more about the modeling side. You are a lovely young woman with the sort of rural wholesomeness one rarely sees in brunettes. You're a bit short, but you remind me a lot of Alys when she first came to me."

Thule watched Dawn preen and stare at the card, still lying on the table where Vanessa had left it. Alys was one of those models that everyone knew by a single name like Gabriella or Cindy.

Still, Dawn didn't pick up the card, "Thank you, Miss Phuong. But, I'm going to have a pretty full plate this year."

"Yes," said Vanessa. "I understand you're going to Harvard this year."

Dawn shook her head, "No. That's Marigold. I'm going to Boston College."

Vanessa nodded, "Of course. Well, do take the card, dear. It's a very small thing. You won't even notice its weight in your purse."

With a glance towards Thule as if seeking permission, Dawn took the card and slipped it into her purse.

Before things got awkward, Thule asked, "Vanessa, have you worked with a man named Oliver Heinzen?"

Vanessa shuddered, "'Worked with' is far too strong of a phrase. We've had business dealings."

Thule smiled gently, "Could you tell me your impression of Mr. Heinzen?"

"Oliver Heinzen," said Vanessa, making a face as if she had swallowed something unpleasant, "is a reprehensible specimen of humanity. Imagine every awful stereotype you have ever heard for a man working in the modeling industry and Oliver Heinzen is either responsible for it or has outdone it. He runs any number of agencies, each outfitted to a specific purpose. They run the gamut from teen models to some really vile pornography to his own personal harem. Worse, he skirts the edge of legality. If you could find anything that would get Oliver Heinzen thrown in jail, I would consider myself in your debt."

Thule considered her vehemence, "So, what sort of business dealings do you have with Mr. Heinzen?"

"Oliver works with a very specific sort of girl. When he finds ones that don't meet his standards, he often sends them to me. If I hire them, I pay him a finder's fee."

Thule was puzzled, "What sort of girl wouldn't meet Mr. Heinzen's standards but would meet yours?"

Vanessa laughed, "Pretty much any girl with a brain, self-esteem, or anything less than a D-Cup. Mr. Roemer, may I make a request?"

Thule nodded, "Of course."

"If you have any more questions about Oliver Heinzen, could they wait until after I've finished my lunch? It is not a subject that does anything positive for my digestion."

"Of course," said Thule apologetically. "I was hoping you could help me understand the process by which the names of possible recruits propagate through your organization."

Vanessa nodded and launched into an explanation of the process. As she spoke, it became clear to Thule that she had a solid grasp of her organization top to bottom. She also was apparently good at reading people because, at one point, she paused, "You found a possible security leak?"

Thule nodded and said diplomatically, "Several. Please go on."

Vanessa frowned again, "I have to admit that we haven't made a particular priority of keeping the list a secret. Until this happened, it never occurred to me that it would be of much use to anyone. Mr. Medeforte's requirements are very specific."

"Can you think of anyone who might have the same or similar requirements?"

Vanessa smiled, "That is the multi-million dollar question, isn't it? I would think it would be someone forming a harem of their own, but not just any harem. It would have to be someone who was also looking to build a brain trust. And, I can only think of one person who fits that description."

"And who would that be?" asked Thule.

"One of my models was dating a young man who is attending Johns Hopkins, a real live Arabian prince by the name of Na... something." She waved her hand as if the name didn't matter, but then said, "Prince Nabil, I think. He's in line to be the king of Hanish-Assab. She was another one with great promise, but she decided to marry him instead of continuing her modeling career. I can't really blame her. It's not everyone who gets a chance to be an actual princess."

-=-

As they were wrapping up lunch, Helene said, "Miss Phuong, were you considering tightening up the security of your lists?"

Vanessa nodded, "I would be derelict in my duty if I didn't."

Helene smiled, "Roemer Security Systems has a package that's almost exactly designed to meet your needs. It provides e-mail security, voice encryption, and a secure extranet."

"That sounds... perfect."

"If you would like," said Helene, "I could ask one of our specialists to set up an appointment to meet with you and see if we can meet your needs."

"Thank you," said Vanessa, sounding genuinely pleased.

Thule nodded, "It would be an excellent idea to secure your information whether we can provide the solution or not. But, before you do, I was wondering if it would be possible to add a name to your list for this year."

Vanessa said, "Usually, the lists are finished by this time of year. But, an extraordinary candidate might be added at the last minute. Who did you have in mind?"

"I'll let you know," said Thule. "I need to pick someone from my organization who would be credible both as a recent high school graduate and as a possible recruit for Mr. Medeforte."

Vanessa nodded, "I anticipated this request and have some friends in the Boston public school system who can help you set up a cover identity. I would think that either of the young ladies here would be ideal--except that Dawn may be too high profile because of her association with your activities last year."

"I'm up for it," said Helene.

Thule favored her with a look, "Thank you, Miss Phuong. I'll let you know."

After lunch, Jake headed off for another meeting while Dawn spoke in close conference with Vanessa. As she and Thule walked away from the table, Helene said, "I hope I didn't step over the line there."

Thule shook his head, "I was actually thinking about using you for this. But, we need to keep it very black."

Helene nodded, "So, there's a spy in the office?"

Thule nodded, "Yeah. At least one. And, I'm starting to wonder if their real boss doesn't have a vested interest in this case."

"All right," said Helene. "I'll keep my involvement quiet. But, when I asked about stepping over the line, I actually meant selling her a security package," said Helene. "I know it's not my job, but I couldn't believe no one was mentioning it."

"No," said Thule. "That was good thinking. I'm afraid I'm not much of a salesman. I was too wrapped up in the case to even think about it. Remind me to put in with sales that you're to get the finder's fee on that one."

Helene nodded, "Thank you... for the compliment. The commission will be nice, too."

Thule chuckled, "Is it really in that order?"

Helene nodded, "Yes. I don't think you realize how much people seek your approval."

"It's... very strange," admitted Thule. "I don't really feel qualified to approve or disapprove of much of anything. You've all got a ton more experience than I do. I'm just playing it by ear half the time."

"A ton?" asked Helene, sounding indignant. "Just how old do you think I am?"

"Not so old that you can't pass for a recent high school graduate," Thule pointed out. "But, old enough that it seems weird that you're calling a nineteen year old 'boss.'"

Helene laughed, "I will admit that I always expected to have a boss that was younger than me one day, but I never expected it to be quite so soon. But, it's not just who you are that makes people want to be near you. You're nineteen and you're like this. What are you going to be like at thirty? Whatever it is, it's going to be huge. We just want to be in on the ground floor. Once you accept that, the desire for praise is natural. Even dogs understand a kind word from their master."

Thule chuckled, "I don't know how your coworkers would enjoy being compared to dogs."

"Their loss," said Helene, shrugging. "If you wanted to put me in a collar and rub my belly, I wouldn't complain."

"Helene!" said Thule, genuinely shocked.

She laughed, "That's another reason I like working for you. For all the adulation you get, it tends to roll off your back. That part of why it's so hard to believe you're nineteen. What other nineteen year-old would be able to resist such temptation, particularly with the kind of arrangement you, Marigold, and Dawn have."

Before Thule could answer, his cell phone rang. A glance at caller ID told him it was Matika. He opened the phone. Without preamble, she said, "I just got a call from Kale. There's still no positive ID. Ioke's father thinks it's her. Her mother and Kale say it's not. And, there's apparently another family that was called in to identify the body who believes it's their daughter. They're going to dental records. We probably won't have an answer until late today if not tomorrow."

"All right," said Thule. "Keep me informed."

Helene raised a questioning eyebrow. Thule said, "They still can't decide if the body is Ioke. They're going to dental records."

"You still think it's not her?"

Thule nodded, "Yeah. I wish we knew, though. It's starting to get to me that it might be."

Helene put a gentle arm around his waist and hugged him, "You've got some kind of history with her. Don't you?"

Thule shook his head, "No. That's the ironic part. I asked her out when she first moved to Mannsborough. She turned me down. But, she was so sweet when she did it that it made me like her even more. We... didn't run in the same circles and didn't talk much until senior year and the summer after that."

"Ah," said Helene. "She's the one that got away. I understand that all too well. In some ways, it's worse than having a history."

Thule nodded. As they arrived at the car, Helene slid her arm away from his waist. Thule lit a cigarette, waiting for Dawn to emerge from the restaurant. When she emerged, she was almost skipping.

Thule hugged her and kissed the top of her head, "Did you and Vanessa have a good talk?"

Dawn nodded, "Yup."

"Anything you want to share?" Thule asked.

Dawn wiggled her hips at him, "We were just discussing how I could live off my bodacious bod if the whole college thing doesn't work out."

Thule leaned in close, whispering so that only she could hear, "I might have a few ideas on that front, too."

Dawn smiled broadly and nipped at his neck, "You're a dirty young man, Thule. And I love you for it."

Thule stroked her hair, "I love you too, wildcat."

Helene cleared her throat conspicuously.

-=-

It wasn't until they were pulling up in front of the house that things started to go wrong. Dawn had been chatting animatedly, engaging both Thule and Helene in a way that kept them laughing all the way back.

As they pulled up, Dawn fell silent. Her face went pale, "Shit."

"What?" asked Thule, immediately alert.

"That's my mother's car," said Dawn. "I can't believe she fucking came here."

Thule kept driving through the circular driveway. As he passed his usual parking space, Dawn asked, "What are you doing?"

"Driving away," said Thule. "We'll go somewhere else. I'll call security and make it clear she's not to have access to you or the house."