Deadrock (15 page)

 
"Hyymmmphhh!" huffed Bluebell.

"Okay,
don't have a cow, Bluebell. You're on sixsies," said Bird.

"I mean
it Bird, you've got to get counseling!" yelled Max.

"Okay, I
promise, I promise. Gnartz, everybody's in such a surly mood tonight. He tossed
up the rubber ball and swept up all ten jacks in his hand before the ball
bounced once. "Ahaaa! I finished tensies! I win!"

Bluebell snorted
and rose abruptly. With a contemptuous toss of her head, she sauntered into the
closet and slid the door closed behind her.

"Now she's
going to sulk," said Bird. "So what do you want to do after dinner?
Coup Sticks? You know, we really should talk about that thunder dream, too, it
might-"

"I'm
having dinner at Nickie's." Max returned to the bathroom and inspected his
face in the mirror. Is that a whisker? Should I shave?

"Dinner?"
said Bird. He froze for an instant,
then
rummaged
around the bedspread for the Linker. He handed it to Max. The button marked
STANDBY flashed. "Aww, bad timing, buddy! I forgot to tell you, you got a
STANDBY call from headquarters waiting for you," said Bird.

"What?
Okay, I'll call back," said Max, rubbing his chin. Yep, definitely time
for a shave.

"Tried
that already," said Bird. "I got the LinkVoice. It said to just sit
tight at these time coordinates and wait for the call."

"Okay,
then, you take the call for me." Too bad I didn't bring a razor, but then,
I just shaved last month, so who knew I'd need one?

"But my
orders are to watch Ted and that's what I'm going to do. Twenty-four hours a
day, starting right now. And besides, isn't your drug sting scheduled for the
day after tomorrow? It might be about that," said Bird.

"Just
take the Linker with you and take the message," said Max. Nickie probably
likes the unshaved look anyway, he thought.
More manly.

"No, it's
set up for this location and you're in command here, Max. You should take the
call. And frankly, I think it might be better if you didn't see so much of
Nickie after hours. Policy of Non-Involvement, you know," said Bird
primly.

"Don't start
that with
me
, Bird. I'm going!"

"Alright.
Then when I talk to the Chief I should tell her you're having dinner with the
victim's daughter?" asked Bird.

Max hesitated.
At last he said, "Don't bother. I've lost my appetite." He pulled his
phone from his discarded pants on the bathroom floor, punched in a number, and
listened for a moment. "Nickie's voicemail's full," he said.

Bird went to Max
and put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "It's for the best, Max. You
should really stay in tonight. Looks like thunder showers ahead." He swung
out the door. "I'll even go by Nickie's and give her a good excuse."

After Bird
left, Max went to the window and searched the sky for a long time. Not a
thundercloud in sight, he thought. He returned to the bathroom, showered and
dressed in clean clothes. Whoever made up this dumb Policy of Non-Involvement,
anyway? At least Bird promised to get counseling. Even if he really didn't
gamble today, only watched the races. Unless he bet off-track!
he
thought. How could I miss something so obvious? Max, you
are losing it!

He grabbed his
pants and the elec-tail in the pocket.
Two-five-six
,
two-one, it read. He slammed open the flat screen. What? That's here! Max
snatched Bird's dirty shirt from the bed and found the tiny chrome pinhead of
the transmitter. "Biiirrd!" Linker in hand, he raced to the door.

All the way to
Nickie's apartment, Max hoped that he'd catch Bird before he left his message
and took off for who-knows-where. He leaned against the doorbell, breathless.

Nickie
answered the door with a chilly tone. "Max. Thought you couldn't make it.
We were just about the eat."

He followed
her to the kitchen. "Didn't Mr. Bird tell you?"

"Right.
He said your message was, 'Something came up'."

Max glared at
Bird who was seated on a barstool at the kitchen island.

"I
probably should have gone into more detail, Nickie," he said. "Max essentially
said it was, uh, 'some personal business to take care of' and asked me to give
you his regrets," said Bird.

"No
problem. It wasn't like a date or anything."

Max turned to
Bird, "You can leave now."

"No way,"
said Nickie. "When you stood me up, I invited Mr. Bird to join me."
Bird beamed at her and toyed with a daisy in a blue crockery vase.

Max took a
seat at the table. "I like the way you folded these napkins, Nickie. They
look just like little bunnies! How did you do that?"

"No big
deal!" She snatched the corner of his napkin, fluffed it in the air and
dropped it onto his plate.

Bird followed
her to the stove and watched over her shoulder as she lifted the chicken from a
pot of hot water, drained the juices, then placed it on a platter.

"Need any
help?" he asked. "I'm great in the kitchen."

"Bird,
just stay out of the way," called Max.

"Thank
you, Mr. Bird, I would like some help," she said pointedly. "I'm just
going to get rid of this, first." She lifted the pot and started to pour
the broth into the sink.

"Nickie,
wait!" Bird said, stopping her. "That's good broth! It'll make a
delicious soup." He took the pot and returned it to the burner.

"I don't
know how to make soup," she said.

He opened the
cabinet and perused the spices. "Well, then, let's see what you have here,"
he said.

"Bird!
Stay out of there!" Max yelled.

Bird filled
his hands with several little metal cans and dumped them on the counter. "Now,
Nickie, I think a good soup is a lot like life," he said, adding a pinch,
a dash or a sprinkling of each herb to the pot. "It starts out with the
same broth for everybody but it's what you do to it that makes it good soup."

"Huh?"
said Max.

Nickie gave
him a stern look. "Explain, please, Mr. Bird," she said politely.

"Hey, the
way I see it, you've got a choice," said Bird. He went to the refrigerator
and piled mushrooms, green onions, and an egg on the counter. He pulled out a
bottle of white wine and pulled out the cork with a pop.

"Bird!
Put that stuff away!" hollered Max, rising.

"Shut up,
Max!" said Nickie. "Sit down and let poor Mr. Bird alone!"

Bird
vigorously chopped the green onions. "As I was saying, you've got a
choice. You can have a bland bowl of broth like everyone else," he plopped
the onions into the pot, "or you could cook up an exciting soup!" He
offered Nickie the knife and set her chopping the mushrooms.

Max rolled his
eyes but kept his peace.

"My soup
is pretty flavorless," she said.

"Okay, then
be inventive!" Bird said, his head in the refrigerator again. "Gotta
take some chances!" He pulled out a plastic lemon and squeezed a shot into
the broth pot. "And forget the rules! Make up your own!" said Bird.

"Yeah,
you're good at making up your own rules," said Max.

Nickie glared
him into silence.

Bird scooped
up the mushrooms and threw them into the pot and turned up the heat. "Look
for ingredients you have handy, things only you can supply – then go for
it!"

"But what
if you don't have much to work with?" said Nickie.

"Don't
make barriers for yourself," Bird said, stirring the soup. "And don't
settle for what's expected of you. Try the unexpected!" He tossed up the
egg, cracked it one-handed against the edge of the pot and sent it flying into
the broth.

Max sucked in
a breath.

Nickie
laughed. "Pretty fancy," she said.

"Pretty
fun – if you're willing to take a chance," Bird said. He closed his
eyes and poured in a dollop of wine. And if you fail, well, you can always cook
up a new chicken."

Nickie bent
over the pot and inhaled the savory steam. "Aren't you making too big a
deal over just soup?"

"Nope. Your
soup – or your life – can be a modest meal or a splendid feast. It's
all up to you." He lifted the spoon dramatically and flourished it in the
air. "The possibilities are endless and the rewards are great."

Max stuck a
finger down his throat, a gesture Nickie ignored.

Bird ladled a
spoonful for her to taste.

Her eyes
widened. "Wow!"

"Don't
tell me," he gloated, "delicate but rich, tangy but smooth, familiar
yet foreign, right?"

"Right!"

"And what
about that surprising zing, eh?"

"Delicious!"
she said.

"So, what
do you call this big deal masterpiece?" asked Max.

Bird looked at
him in surprise. "Why, chicken soup, silly. It's all in the preparation,
you know."

Halfway
through the magical soup course, Max's Linker started to beep.

"Sorry,
my phone," he explained to Nickie. "Probably my…social worker. She's
evaluating Mr. Bird this month."

"Oh.
Well, go ahead," she said.

Max hesitated
and looked to Bird for help.

"I think
the lad doesn't want to talk to her in front of me," Bird said. "Why
don't you step out into the hallway, Max?"

"I won't
be long," said Max.

"Don't
hurry. We wouldn't want to interfere with your 'personal business'," said
Nickie.

Max stepped
into the hallway. Great, he thought. First Bird gives Nickie some lame excuse
that she doesn't believe,
then
he gets me kicked out
of the apartment. I hope she lets me back in for dessert.

Max paced up
and down the hallway looking for a clear signal, moved to the stairwell and finally,
wound his way down the stairs and onto the street. He was just a few blocks
from his motel when he had some success. He pushed the STANDBY button and it
stopped blinking. That's weird, it's supposed to keep flashing if there's a
call coming in. He tried to get a connection for another forty minutes until it
finally crackled into life. He punched in the numbers, and waited. A rattle of
static and then, "Leo Peterson, here."

"Leo! I've
been waiting hours for your call!"

"You must
be reading my mind, Max! How did you know I was going to call you? I've just
been waiting for clearance," said Leo.

"No, Bird
said – never mind, Leo, what's up?"

"It's
good news, Max! Your grandma came through after all. You can come back tomorrow
morning! In time for the sting! Isn't that great?"

"Tomorrow?"
His thoughts went to Nickie. "Yeah, that's great, Leo, but I really need
some time first to…to talk to somebody," said Max.

A picture of
Nickie eating lunch alone in the library came to him.
I
wouldn't have let her eat alone behind a dictionary.
I
would have been her friend but does
she care? Noooo, she – wait – dictionary! I was going to look up
something in the dictionary…something
Powers
said.

"Max? Are
you still there?" said Leo.

Keel awl?
No…keel haul! That's it! He flipped through the K's in his infochip dictionary.
Kayak, Kebob,
Keel-haul
: "To haul under the keel
of a ship as punishment or torture, to kill," he read aloud.

"What
ship? What murder, Max
!?
"

"Leo, it's
okay. But I'm involved here. It's too complicated to explain but I can't leave
yet. You go ahead with the Spinelli sting and I'll come back when I'm finished
here."

"No, Max!
If you're on a ship you've got to get ashore quick because the Chief said we're
going to retrieve you at 6:00 am tomorrow. And you know, I'm so relieved. Call
it my intuition, but I've had a bad feeling-"

"Can't do
it, Leo. I'll take responsibility. Talk to you when I get back!"

Max hung up on
Leo's protests. He turned the Linker on its side, removed the small, glowing
red disc inside the slot and tossed it into a trashcan.

Max looked at
his internal time. Oh, gnartz! An hour and a half gone! She'll never let me
back in now, he thought. But he headed that way anyway and ran into Bird in the
next block.

"Hey,
Max! What did headquarters have to say?"

"Nothing,
just Leo checking in. Was Nickie mad that I didn't come back?"

"Weeelll,
disappointed, I think. But we had fun after you left. Ted came home and we
played musical chairs to his old rock and roll CDs."

 
"I've been thinking, Bird. We've got
to walk this case through again. We're not any closer to solving this murder
and
it's
only days away."

"But we
don't have to solve it, Max, just witness it. We can't change things. Somebody's
going to die."

Back in the
motel, Max paced in the small foot space between his bed and Bird's and tried
to ignore the big Indian's singing.

"We all
live in a yel-low submarine, yel-low submarine, yel-low submarine..."

Just tune it
out, thought Max. After all, a good cop has to learn concentration.

"Love
Shack, baaaby, Love Shack, bay-beee!"

And a good cop
has to learn patience.

"Darling,
you've gooot to let me know…should I stay or should I goooo?"

"Biiiirrrd!"

"What?
Want to sing along? How about a game of musical chairs? It's really fun, never
played it before tonight."

"No! Are
you sure Ted's home for the ni – wait, you played musical chairs with
just three people?"

"Well,
you find a winner pretty fast, that's true," said Bird, lying down on his
bed. "But yes, Ted is in for the night, he was yawning several times
before I left."

"Okay,
tomorrow's the online press conference and we have work to do in the morning. So
get some sleep."

"Speaking
of the morning, I thought we could get up extra early and do a Sun Dance before
work," said Bird.

"Forget
it, Bird, we don't have time for games." Max went into the bathroom to clean
his teeth.

"It's a
simple, solemn ceremony, Max. But we'll need a pole or a lamppost or something.
Anyway, we dance around the pole until we get faint and fall into a trance or a
vision."

"Sounds
as much fun as musical chairs for three. Besides, the only thing this
meditating has gotten me is bad dreams."

"Exactly!
That thunder dream is important, Max. We need to find out what it means. You
were visited by the Thunder Being."

"The who?"

"Thunder
Being
, the one who protects warriors. That dream was a warning,
Max. You're in danger. If we do a Sun Dance we might be able to get
supernatural help," said Bird.

"Isn't
there an easier way? Do a little jazz-hands or something?"

"If we
were home, I could talk to my shaman and he might be able to tell us but-"

Max's phone
rang. "Tell me this is a psychic Shaman," he answered. "Oh,
sorry! Hello? Nickie?"

"Max! I
can't believe it! I'm so mad I could just kill him!" said Nickie.

"Calm
down! What's wrong?"

"Dad and
I were just sitting around talking after Bird left. Our first talk in weeks,
you know? And it was great! I told him what I wanted to do about college
– I even asked him about Gloria. And do you know what he said? He said
there's nothing between them. Nothing!"

"So that's
good, right?" said Max.

"No! That's
not good, because five minutes later Gloria calls and says she needs him at the
capsule right away so he just runs off!"

"Now don't
get upset."

"Upset! I've
had it with him! He lied to me! If they're having an affair why don't they come
out with it? I – I'm going to go down there and confront them!"

"Nickie!
Listen! Don't go down there!"

"I've got
to, Max. I'll call you when I get back!"

"Nickie!
Don't hang up!" said Max.

"What's
happened?" asked Bird.

"It was
Nickie. She's going to the capsule and confront Ted and Gloria."

"So
tonight's the murder, you think?"

"Could
be. Okay, let me think. Bird, you…you go detain Nickie. I don't want her down there
when things get bad. I'll go ahead to the capsule and witness the crime."

"You're
the boss," said Bird, leaving.

Max grabbed
his shoes and pulled them on. He flew through the door and crashed into Leo.

"Leo!
What are – what?" He gave his friend a hand up and retrieved the
Porta-Transfer box that was knocked out of his hands.

"Max, you
gotta come home with me," Leo was shaken. "Internal Affairs thinks
you're over-involved. I had to convince them that I could bring you in."

"Look,
Leo, you can bring me in later! Right now I've got to witness the murder!"

Max started to
push his way past but Leo blocked him. "You don't understand, Max. You've
been pulled from the case."

"But I can
get the murderer for you!"

"It's not
necessary! See, the lab crew found a hair on the corpse.
A
woman's hair, Max.
They think they know who did it," said Leo.

"A woman's?
I see.
Alright
, Leo, I'll go with you. C'mon inside.
You set the atom timer and coordinates while I get my stuff."

Leo set the
Porta-Transfer box on the dresser and fumbled with the settings. Max quickly
scanned the room, then settled on the framed paint-by-number painting of
Niagara Falls on the wall across from Leo's back. Circling behind him, Max
raised the painting over Leo's head, hesitated,
then
firmly brought it down on his skull. Leo crumpled to the floor.

Max grabbed a
pillow from the bed and placed it under Leo's head. He nestled the transport
box in Leo's arms, set the dials and pushed SEND.

"Forgive
me, Leo," he said. He rushed from the building just as Leo's atoms
separated and spiraled ahead on their journey through time.