Chapter 3

Marco and Jesus stood before their boss on his veranda. It had been three days, and Jefferson's patience was wearing thin. He stood up from the chair and began to pace with his hands behind his back. His honor was at stake and these bumblers were costing him time and effort.

"What do you mean she's disappeared?" Jefferson hissed at his bodyguards. "No one just disappears."

"Well, boss, the credit card and driver's license she gave at the rental place are dead ends: a dummy corporation account and a dead 10 year old boy. Four different people swear that she got on three different flights. The two who agree say she went to the Capital. No one there saw her deplane or board another plane," Jesus said.

"Our friends in the Capital have heard about a woman like her. She's an agent for the Foundation for Truth and Justice, a bunch of do-gooders. But no one has seen this Agent Raven in the week since the warehouse fire. It's like she dropped off the face of the earth," Marco explained.

"Do you at least have a picture of this agent?"

"Sure, boss. But it's not very good. No details on the face at all other than very dark eyes. Long black hair that hangs straight to the middle of her back. She's not thin, but she's not fat. She has nice, big hooters. She's about 5'5". Always wears black. They think she drives a red sports car."

"My maiden aunt could fit that description. You got nothing. Three days and you got nothing. What use are you guys? I ought to have you burned beyond recognition."

"Please, boss, give us more time. This one is tough. But we will find her. No Capital bimbo can outsmart us."

"All right, Jesus. You two keep looking for her, but don't take too much longer. I'm itching for some revenge. It's her or you. So find her and fast!"

"Sure thing, boss. We'll get her." Both men backed off the veranda and headed to their cars, breathing a sigh of relief.

Jefferson watched them go and wondered if he shouldn't have just had them killed now. He knew it would happen soon. No one must tie him to Nirvana until it was too late.

"Sargeant Jamieson?"

Tommy Jamieson sighed and closed the folder on his desk. He took a deep breath and then leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "Yes ma'am, what can I do for you?"

"The man at the front desk said you were the expert on Nirvana around here," Raven replied matter-of-factly. She wasn't real impressed by the freckle faced man who looked back at her.

Jamieson, on the other hand, was very impressed by the beauty who stood in front of his desk. He marvelled briefly at the silkiness of her long black hair as it streamed from her white headband. He noted her dark eyes flash with momentary anger as his gaze strayed down her face to the hint of cleavage that her button down sky blue blouse afforded him. She's no model, he thought to himself, but she's a real beauty.

"Please, sit down," he said, gesturing toward a chair to his right. "I'm Tommy Jamieson. I guess I'm as close to an expert on Nirvana as exists."

"Thank you," Raven replied, seating herself gracefully. She crossed her legs, allowing her denim skirt to slide up her thigh a bit. "I'm Mandy Mitchell. I'm a research analyst for the Foundation for Truth and Justice..."

"That's a new one on me. What does the foundation do?"

"We are a nonprofit research organization that gathers information on crime and criminals. Several large city police departments, the FBI, and a number of Senators pay us to maintain data and databases on all kinds of crime, crime statistics, criminals, and m.o.'s."

"Oh. So what do you want?"

"I'm doing some research on a new drug called Nirvana. We've been asked to begin compiling all data concerning the drug. And so far I've found nearly nothing. No one seems to know much about it, so anything you can tell me would be a great help."

Jamieson rolled his eyes and thought, Oh, Christ another ditzy reporter. "Well, Mandy, there isn't much to tell, yet."

"Nirvana first came to our attention about six months ago when the first user was arrested. At first, we thought he was on PCP or cocaine, but after a while, it became apparent that he was on something else."

"What made you think that?"

"Well, his high seemed to be constant and then was suddenly gone. And when it left, he was driven to immediately get more. He rattled the cell door, flung himself at the walls, promised the guard anything, including is baby sister if he would just open the door. And this went on for the entire six hours he was in the cell, until he was bailed out."

"Are you sure he wasn't just in need of a bigger fix of cocaine or PCP?"

"Pretty much. His blood sample came back without any trace of a drug that is currently being screened for." Jamieson's mouth dropped open and he smacked himself on the head. "Of course!"

He turned back to Raven and said, "Look, lady, I just thought of something I need to check out. You want to learn more, come with me. Otherwise call the information officer." Jamieson hefted himself out of his chair and lumbered on down the hallway toward the exit.

Raven grasped her purse and took off after him wondering what she had said that had triggered his memory.

When Raven opened the exit door, she found Jamieson already seated in the driver's seat of a shiny blue sunbird convertible. He started the car and backed out of the parking spot. Raven opened the door and sat down, buckling the seat belt.

She was barely seated when Jamieson hit the gas and off they went. Jamieson told her everything he knew about the drug Nirvana, including the recent bombing of a suspected factory and the possibly poisoned supply.

He was just finishing his narrative when he pulled into a medical lab parking lot.

"Why are we here?" Raven asked.

"This is the lab the department employs to test the blood samples we take from DUI and other drug arrests. I just realized that they may still have some of the blood from the last five or six cases that Doc can analyze."

"Doc?"

"A friend of mine who works in Central Hospital's emergency room. He has had a bunch of patients with poisoned Nirvana in the last few weeks."

"Oh."

Jamieson zipped past the startled receptionist, flashing his badge. Raven followed quickly on his heals. Through the main doors and down the second hall to the left and then into the second lab on the right, Jamieson raced.