Chapter 14

Harper's review of cold case files found six cases in which there was either an attempted or actual kidnapping. Four of them contained DNA evidence. His next move was to ask the FBI to provide DNA samples from the Higginbotham brothers.

"What are you up to now?" asked Agent Jefferson, who was frustrated by chasing what he now believed was a wild goose, concerning the "mastermind" of the Custer case.

"I've got four cold kidnapping cases," said Harper, simply.

"You want to stack the charges," suggested Jefferson.

"No, I want to solve old cases," countered Harper.

"Why do you think these three might have been involved?"

"I don't. I'm just running down leads ... possibilities ... doing my job, Agent Jefferson."

"Why muddy the waters?" asked the federal agent. "We've got them cold on this one. They're going away forever, if I can ever get the fucking civilians to let me close the case."

"You married?" asked Harper.

"Yeah."

"If somebody kidnapped her, and never got caught, wouldn't you want to know who did it?"

"You're a crusader!" chuckled Jefferson.

"I'm a cop. It's what we do. Now, are you going to help me or do I have to go through official channels?"

"You don't have to threaten me," said the FBI agent. "And it wouldn't do you any good anyway. This one is too high profile." He frowned. "What's my probable cause for getting the samples?"

"You've got blood at the scene, don't you?" asked Harper. "Have you positively confirmed whose it is?"

"No need," said Jefferson. "Only the perpetrators were injured."

"I'm sure the defense will see it that way too," said Jim.

Jefferson snorted. "OK, I'll get you your samples. But you report anything you find to me ... got it?"

"I work for the city of New York," said Harper. "If I short circuit my boss, he'll have my ass."

"Your boss IS an ass," said Jefferson.

"You'll know something just before he does. That's the best I can do. I have to live here."

"You're on." The man smiled. "You really think there might be something here or are you just going through the motions?"

"Going through the motions is what solves crimes," said Harper shrugging.

"Ok, so tell me about this dream," said Kris. "You said I was in it?"

She looked a little uncomfortable.

"It was a strange dream. You know how dreams can be strange and not mean what they appear to mean ... right?"

He grinned. "You mean we were naked?"

She blushed. "No ... not really. Oh, never mind! It was just a stupid dream."

"Come on. You can't get away with that," he said firmly. "You brought it up, now you have to tell me about it."

She looked uncomfortable again.

"OK, but just remember it doesn't mean anything."

He waited, forcing her to speak.

"OK. We were ... um ... living together..." He grinned, but didn't say anything. "And I was on some kind of spring cleaning frenzy."

She stopped long enough that he felt like he could say something.

"So what about the naked part?"

"Hush!" she snapped. "I'm getting there." She looked away. "I was wearing a frilly white apron, with cherries all over it."

"So I was the naked one," he said, his smile wide.

"Will you shut up and let me tell this!?" she yelled.

"OK, OK." He turned an imaginary key in his closed lips and then tossed it over his shoulder.

Lulu stared at him, took a deep breath, and went on.

"The apron was ALL I was wearing, and I had to climb up on ladders to get at the cob webs and dust the ceiling fixtures, and you were following me around, taking advantage of the fact that all I had on was the apron."

"Sounds pretty normal to me," he said. "If you were cleaning things almost naked I WOULD follow you around trying to peek."

"That's not all you were doing," she said, sounding a little miffed.

"I see," he said. "Was I being naughty?"

"You were being VERY naughty!" she said emphatically.

"So this dream means you want to get it on with me." He grinned.

"If you'll REMEMBER," she snapped, "I reminded you that dreams don't always mean what they APPEAR to mean. So just don't even think about it, buster."

"Hey, it was your dream," he said, holding up his hands. He shrugged. "My dreams aren't so complicated. In my dreams, we're just in bed doing it like minks." He grinned.

"This is weird," said Lou Anne. "We've only known each other for a few weeks and we're having strange dreams." She frowned. "Maybe it has something to do with this book you're writing. I keep thinking about the book, and things that could happen in it, and then you write something that gets me going.

"It's the whole karma thing," said Kris smoothly. "When you saved my life, our souls were intertwined. It will just take a while to get them untangled. Anyway, I kind of like your dream. It has all the elements of something that might be fun in real life. Except for the cleaning part, maybe."

She startled him slightly when she said, "It was the most fun I ever had cleaning." Then she fixed her eyes on him. "OK, enough of dreams and all that. You need to write!"

"I will, just as soon as I finish my snack," he said calmly.

Lou Anne looked across the table at Kris, through the hair that had drifted down over her eyes. He was just eating. Both of them were, so there wasn't much talking going on. She stopped chewing and intentionally examined the atmosphere in the room. She decided it was comfortable. Even after talking about that silly dream, she still didn't feel uncomfortable. She had when she'd started, but his reaction to it had reassured her. She saw his eyes go from the sandwich he was taking a bite out of to the front of her night shirt. That felt comfortable somehow, too. She thought about that slap on the ass he'd given her, earlier in the evening. He liked her ass. He found her attractive. That much was obvious. She didn't know if he'd been kidding about HIS dream, but she found that it didn't bother her to think that he HAD dreamed about her.

"So," she said, after swallowing. "How'd you like the outfit Jess was wearing when you almost destroyed our party?"

He blinked and seemed to take longer to chew and swallow than was necessary.

"It was OK," he said.

"Just OK?"

"It sounded like somebody was being murdered," he said. "You can't fault me for coming to make sure you were all right."

"I didn't say I was upset about it," she said. "I just asked you how you liked Jess's outfit."

Again, there was a long pause before he answered.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"What's the big deal?" she asked.

"The big deal is that there's something in the tone of your voice that makes me edgy. It's like looking into the dark and not knowing whether, if you step forward, you'll just take a step or walk off a cliff."

"My goodness!" said Lou Anne in mock astonishment. "I had no idea I was so scary."

"Are we having an argument?" he asked.

"Why would we be having an argument?"

"I don't know, but it sure feels like we're having one, and I don't want to argue with you."

"Why not?"

"Because I like coming here, OK? I don't want you to get pissed off at me for some reason I don't understand and tell me to stop coming here."

"I'm not pissed off."

"Good."

"So what did you think of the outfit?"

He looked up at her and put the sandwich down. He looked a little frustrated.

"When one woman asks a man what another woman looks like, there's something going on there. What do you want me to say? That she looked hot? That she was gorgeous? That I hoped the thing would fall off of her?"

"I just wanted to know what you thought," said Lou Anne a little stiffly.

"Well what I think is that you'd look better in it. But I'm not supposed to say things like that, because we hardly know each other."

"You felt like you knew me well enough to slap me on the ass," she said, her voice still tight.

"OK, I screwed up. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I won't do it again."

"I didn't say you couldn't do it again."

"What do you want from me?" he moaned.

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For Want of a Memory

Lubrican

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