Wonder Guy (35 page)

Finding Professor Stevens’ present whereabouts, despite it being a weekend evening after end-of-term, required only a stop at the computer lab and some quick social networking. Penny’s Twitter page revealed how she planned to spend the weekend with her
amour
at his
pied a terre
. The department directory supplied the professor’s home address.

The professor’s condo stood on the St. Anthony’s Main bank of the Mississippi, where it had a spectacular view of Nicollet Island and downtown Minneapolis. By this hour, city lights made an abstract, downtown-Minneapolis-shaped design against a night sky grown doubly dark with a thick layer of gathering clouds. The scene lay reflected in shimmering duplicate on the dark water below.

Wonder Guy circled the upper stories of the condo building until he spotted the professor standing on his balcony, one arm around a pretty redheaded grad student.

Greg dove down to land beside him and stand, hands fisted on his hips, playing the costumed superhero role to the hilt. Abandoning his companion, Stevens backed away toward the sliding glass doors to his apartment.

Greg moved to intercept him, positioning himself between the professor and his escape route.

“You’ll want this to be a private conversation.” He locked eyes with the professor, but nodded to Penny who stood backed against the balcony railing. From her admiring gaze, Greg guessed she’d forgotten the professor in favor of the superhero’s arrival. “Will you excuse us, miss?”

“Sure,” she breathed, moving slowly to the terrace door, never taking her wide-eyed gaze off him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Stevens demanded.

“I think I’m paying a visit to the man responsible for stealing student research and selling it off to the R&D division at ABM.”

Stevens sputtered. “What are you talking about?”

“Give it up, Professor. The storage unit housing the stolen data is traceable to you. I’ve done it. So will the police.” The older man’s face went pale beneath its fake tan.

“What do you want?”

“Right now? The name and contact info for your confederate at ABM.”

The more he considered it, the more sense it made. ABM couldn’t be using legitimate means to acquire stolen research. Who knew how far the woman he’d spotted visiting the servers might go to keep her illegal dealings secret?

“She may be guilty of murder,” Greg continued.

“Murder? Now wait a minute. I haven’t had anything to do with any murder.”

“A young woman is dead and your business partner has secrets to keep. How much are you willing to stake on her good moral character? Your own life if she decides you know too much? Being counted as an accessory to her crimes? You’d better decide whether it’s worth it to you.”

“You’re nothing but a damned self-appointed vigilante.” The professor straightened, facing Wonder Guy with a scowl. “You have no legal authority here.”

“No.” Greg smiled. “But I can get the people who do have the authority over here if you’d rather deal with them. I can see letting the matter go if you give up your partner and return the stolen research. The authorities may not be as willing to deal.”

The professor looked shaken, despite his belligerent manner. He glowered. “I’m not admitting anything,” he said. “My relationship with Kathleen Pederson, who happens to work at ABM, is purely social. If she’s done anything illegal, I know nothing about it.”

“We can return to the issue at any time,” Greg growled. “And we will if you don’t produce her contact info for me in the next sixty seconds.”

Stevens stared darkly back at him as he dug in his jacket pocket and produced a cell phone. Clicking through a few icons, he proffered the device. “Here. This is the only number I have for her.”

Greg studied the number, committing it to memory. He initiated a call, but Pederson’s phone sent him immediately to voice mail. Now what? He handed Stevens his phone.

“Thanks for your cooperation, Professor,” he said, keeping a warning note in his tone. “I’ll check back on the status of the student work, and ABM will be warned to establish the provenance of their research.”

The professor said nothing. Until Wonder Guy took to the air, when his super hearing caught a bout of muttered, though ardent, cursing. At least he had Pederson’s name and number. Now he’d have to figure out whether she really was connected to Jo’s murder, making her a threat to Gloria.

Chapter 21

Elysha relished the woodlands at night. Especially on nights like this, with the wind dancing ahead of a brewing storm. She sensed the world through her skin, through the lush, moist air of a June night in which the rising breeze carried scents of wild strawberries, rain to come and the distant taint of gas and tar.

She wove her way between roots and brambles and stabbing branches as if she were herself a tendril of the wind, as much a part of the wild as any tree or vine. The wildness churned even in these shallow scraps of woodlands that once had wrapped this region in wilderness as thick as a grizzly’s winter pelt. At the verge of the open lawns bordering the narrow road running along the creek for the length of the park, she met her contact.

“What are those?” Pederson asked, staring wide-eyed at the creatures all too visible even in the shadows of the open area between wood and road.

“You’ve done well.” Elysha nodded to her. “Did you bring the weapon?”

Still casting nervous looks to the side, the woman turned her attention back to Elysha. “I brought that chunk of brick and cement, if that’s what you mean. It’s not much of a weapon. I’d rather have an automatic.”

“This weapon has surely kept at least one of our enemies from interfering with you in the course of your errands.” Elysha nodded to another minion, one looking more like a gnarled knot of tree roots come to life than anything else.

Pederson lifted the chunk of masonry from the back seat of her vehicle and the creature grasped it. The woman flinched from contact with the minion, quickly releasing her grip.

“What about the girl? She might still be trouble.” She wiped her hands down the sides of her business suit.

“The girl will cause no trouble. Once she’s of no more use to me, I’ll dispose of her.”

The captive in question struggled, despite her obviously dazed state, as the minions dragged her from the rear of Pederson’s conveyance and carried her into the deeper darkness beneath the trees. Here, along the rippling laugh of the creek cutting to the south of the city, poplars and maples still stood tall and drew the darkness in around them, enclosing everything in night except for odd glimmers of lesser darkness between the masses of undergrowth. It took four of the stronger creatures to carry the girl from the road.

They took the duty with ill grace, complaining of having to go near the burning metal and noxious fumes. Elysha sniffed in disdain. Her servants should be calloused to such duty by now. Perhaps she needed to expose them to cold steel more often.

* * * *

It’s a nightmare. It must be.
In the darkness beneath clouded night and leafy woods, Gloria caught only glimpses of her captors as they’d dragged her from the car. Whatever they were wasn’t human. They seemed more like strange combinations of roots and toads, or insects and thistles in vaguely human shape. Aliens? Monsters? Nightmares. The ‘hands’ clutching her felt as unyielding as the branches of scrub trees growing up beside the garage. Ike needed to root them out or cut them back every season. Perhaps she dreamt of their revenge.

Her journey became a series of slaps and stinging blows. With hands and legs still bound, she couldn’t protect herself from the lash of branches and trailing brambles sweeping past as the creatures carried her deeper into the woods. She tried to shield her face by tucking her chin into a shoulder. The gag made breathing difficult, but at least it protected her mouth. Squelching underfoot and the sound of flowing water told her some stream ran nearby. Minnehaha maybe?

At last, her bearers released her and she hit the ground with a jarring thump. Half-stunned from the impact, she lay on uneven turf where the roots of a large tree protruded and stinging nettles grew thick. She flinched from the nettles and wriggled to find some softer place among the roots.

Someone loomed above her, a darker shade among the shadows.

Something prodded her in the ribs.

“Such bait seems a poor lure for our fish. We must display you to better advantage than this.” A woman’s voice. Gloria lay at the feet of a woman.

Gloria gurgled in the effort to speak around the gag. She wanted to scream. Shout. Demand answers. Who was this woman? Bait to lure a fish? Not good. Not good at all.

“I cannot trust you not to scream.” The woman’s voice sounded thoughtful. “We’re still too near human habitation. Still, a small spell will serve better than that nasty rag and you must be able to plead to your hero when he comes.”

One of the twiggy creatures reached toward her face and Gloria flinched. With some tugging, the thing managed to tear away the cloth from her mouth. She drew breath and let loose what should have been a hell of a shrill scream, but no sound issued from her throat.

What?
She tried to speak, to say, “What have you done to me?” Her lips moved. She did exactly as she’d always done to produce speech, but now only silence resulted. Panic warred with the awareness of how ridiculous she must look, mouth working like a stranded fish. She closed her lips into a firm line and glared at the looming shadow of her captor.

In her distraction, Gloria had barely noticed her other bonds changing form, not until her hands were drawn apart, dragged forcefully from their bound-behind-her-back position. Duct-tape no longer held them together, but she found each wrist wrapped separately with what felt like heavy, prickly cord. Unseen forces dragged these cords behind the tree at her back. She found herself pulled up and back to a seated posture with her arms awkwardly spread to encompass the width of the tree’s trunk, solid bark scraping her spine. Her legs were freed for a moment and she squirmed into an upright posture with their aid.

The earth beneath her softened. The roots of the tree writhed below the sod, coiling up and around her legs, drawing them below the dirt, until it seemed she stood, buried to the tops of her legs in the earth and pressed back against the tree. Overcome by horror and helplessness, she screamed soundlessly, over and again.

* * * *

Flying not far above the neighborhood roofs, Greg spotted the flashing lights of a police car lighting up the night. Several squad cars parked in front of Aggie’s house. He landed behind the house, changed from Wonder Guy’s costume back to his normal slacks and t-shirt, and only then went around to the front of the house at a run.

He found Aggie sitting in her wheelchair on the front walk, watching a pair of men in police uniform at the Torkenson’s front door. One pounded the door intermittently while the other spoke into a radio. Greg’s heart lurched.

“What’s going on?” He came up beside Aggie.

“It’s Gloria.” Worry impressed new lines in her brow, drew down the corners of her mouth.

“Did you call her? Warn her?”

“I tried. Someone’s got her, or at least, someone has her phone and claims to have her. When I tried calling, some other woman answered. She said Gloria will die if Wonder Guy doesn’t come for her.”

“What?” It came out at a much higher volume than he’d intended. The police looked his way. He took a breath. He had to think clearly. More softly, he asked, “How is Wonder Guy supposed to find her? How were you supposed to tell him?”

“I don’t know.” Tears stood in Aggie’s eyes now. “I didn’t know what else to do but call the police. They’re deciding now whether she’s gone, whether to put out an APB and try to contact Wonder Guy.”

“You have to tell them to find Gloria’s supervisor. It’s Kathleen Pederson. I’d bet the farm she’s one who has Gloria’s phone.”

“We don’t own a farm, and why don’t you tell them yourself?”

“This is no time to teach me to be more independent, Mom. The police would ask me questions I can’t answer.”

“I can’t answer any questions about it either.”

“You won’t have to. You’ve met Pederson. You can tell them you recognized her voice, it only took you a while to put it together. They won’t push a poor helpless cripple lady too hard,” he added in a teasing tone he hoped would take some of the edge off the worry showing clearly on her face.

She socked him in the arm with the considerable strength she’d gained by wheeling her chair everywhere she went. “All right, I’ll tell them, but I’ll want the whole story later.”