Molly stumbled out of the bedroom, desperate for some coffee. She stopped with a squeak when she saw the woman on the floor in front of the couch. The woman raised her head and grinned at her. "Hi, let me just finish these last few push-ups."
"Um. Okay." Molly shook her head and continued to the kitchen. Before she had even scooped the instant coffee into her cup, the tall woman bounded up and came over, hand extended.
"I'm Detective Mendoza. You can call me Mikki. Sorry if I startled you. You were already asleep when I relieved Kelsoe last night."
Molly extracted her hand from the enthusiastic grip. "That's alright. Thanks for taking the night shift."
"No problem. I always volunteer for the night shift."
"You want some coffee?"
"No thanks. Gotta finish my work-out." She bounced back to the livingroom, long ponytail swinging.
Molly leaned against the counter and rubbed her bandaged hand over her soft belly while she sipped her coffee. Her eyes fell on the badge and gun lying on the opposite counter. The police guns were larger and meaner than the revolver Lieutenant Flynn had showed her yesterday. Solid black and chunky. She stepped forward and reached out a tentative finger. A phone rang, and she quickly pulled her finger back.
Detective Mendoza's vigorous panting had stopped. "Mendoza," she said.
After a short, indecipherable conversation, the detective came back into the kitchen. "That was Andy. He says he'll be by in an hour. There's someplace he needs to take you." Mikki paused and laughed. "He's not that bad, is he?"
Molly smiled. "No, it's not that. I'm just tired. And my usual Sunday routine is to read the paper in bed and eat a big stack of pancakes."
"Did you sleep alright? I thought I heard some, uh, tossing and turning."
Molly waved her off. "I'm fine. I just need a shower." She picked up her coffee and trudged to the bedroom.
She was sitting on the end of the bed lacing her sneakers when she heard the knock on the front door. He was early, which meant no time for breakfast. Oh well, it wouldn't hurt her to skip a meal or two. She had heard Mikki do an astounding fifty sit-ups before launching into something that sounded like kickboxing. Molly felt tired just listening to her. She slipped into her hoodie and shot a disparaging glance at the cane leaning against the dresser. Getting to take the cast off yesterday had been such a happy moment. Why ruin it by lugging around that hideous thing? But the doctor had insisted that she protect her foot until it was fully healed. Molly sighed and grabbed it on her way out.
When they were settled in Flynn's rattly car, she asked him where they were going.
"We've got several things to do," he said vaguely.
Molly rolled her eyes. The Lieutenant seemed to be in a somewhat better mood today, but he was still treating her like an annoying ward he resented being responsible for. She was the one whose life had been upended. The least he could do….well, never mind. In no time they'd find Mackie and she wouldn't have to talk to any of them again.
Flynn pulled into a parking spot in front of a big restaurant with a blue roof and faux-tudor décor.
"What's this?" Molly asked.
Flynn shrugged. "I heard you like pancakes."
Molly swallowed past a sudden lump and turned away to open her door. That Mikki!
When they were comfily ensconced in a booth, a carafe of coffee and two stacks of pancakes between them, she asked again what the plan for the day was.
Flynn swallowed his forkful of blueberry pancakes. "You're still insisting on going back to class tomorrow?"
"I have to. I've missed two weeks."
"Okay, don't get so defensive. I just think it would be a good idea for me to see your office and the classroom so I know the lay of the land before tomorrow."
"You're going to go to my classes?"
"Of course I'm-!" Flynn stopped. "I mean, yes, I'm sorry but I need to accompany you tomorrow. Your class schedule is online. Anyone could find it."
Molly looked at the array of whipped cream-bedecked food in front of her, sparkling in the morning sun. Then she looked up at the Lieutenant, in his crisply ironed camp shirt. He was freshly shaven but still had lines of fatigue around his eyes.
"I understand," she finally said. "Thank you for everything you're doing."
His jaw unclenched and he gave her a boyishly crooked grin. "My pleasure," he said. "I haven't had pancakes in ages." He stuck another giant forkful in his mouth.
Actually, Flynn thought to himself, that had gone better than expected. He pulled out of the half-full parking lot behind her office building. The campus was fairly small, and her classes were close to her office. Even with Monday crowds, it would be difficult for Mackie to stalk her unnoticed. Three plain-clothes detectives circulating around this side of campus should be adequate.
He could hardly believe she hadn't yelled at him yet. Maybe she was adjusting. Or maybe she was just glad to be getting back to work tomorrow. He could see she wasn't happy about having a cop traipsing around her office, but she hadn't objected. He couldn't see any signs of forced entry. Not that that meant anything. Colleges always had crap security. No surprises awaited them inside, though who knew what might be hidden in all those books. Geez, he had thought she had a lot of books at her apartment. There wasn't time to do a full search of her office, but his instincts told him Mackie wouldn't have broken in here. The library was next door and students walked by this building 24/7.
His phone rang. Gabriel. He put in his ear piece before answering.
"Flynn."
"Hi Lieutenant. The Chief wanted me to update you on Mackie's background."
"What have you got?"
"Well, we think we know where he got his medical supplies. You were right. He spent a year in Ecuador working in an off-the-books medical clinic there. That's probably where he got his training and picked up his supplies."
"Do they have any information?"
"No, we haven't been able to get anyone down there to talk to us yet. We do, however, think we've identified his first victim."
"His first?"
"Yeah, his mother. She apparently had diabetes for at least ten years. She managed it pretty well, but did have to have a toe amputated at one point."
"Really."
"Yeah. And get this: she ended up getting lymphoma a few years ago. She had part of her liver removed and then her kidneys started failing. Mr. Mackie's friends say that's when he started getting strange and fell out of touch with them."
"When did she go?"
"That's the thing. There's no death certificate. Her doctors transferred her to hospice at the end, but there's no record of her ever being in a hospice facility and no record of her death. She just disappeared."
"What? Wasn't there a missing persons report at least?"
"Nope. Her doctors assumed she was in hospice and everyone else thought she had died."
"Alright. Keep me updated."
After he hung up, he glanced over at Molly. She was still reading the papers she had picked up from her office, or at least pretending to read them. He was still debating how much to tell her. The car yesterday and now Gabriel's information were clarifying his mental picture of Mackie, and the picture was becoming increasingly disturbing. This was one sick dude, and he was not likely to stop now. Flynn decided to go ahead with the third errand he had tentatively planned. He took a right on Hillside and geared himself up for an unpleasant afternoon.
After he had parked the car, it took a few moments for his passenger to connect the dots. The giant bullseye on the sign helped.
"You son of a-"
"What? Because I want to see you stay alive?"
"You know how I feel about this. I'm not going to go hang out with a bunch of survivalist whackos and shoot at paper silhouettes!"
"Dammit, Molly, you know we can't provide a hundred percent protection. That guy is out there and he's still after you."
"Stop treating me like a victim!"
"Then stop acting like one!"
She was facing him, breathing hard, eyes snapping with anger. Then her face closed like a door slamming and she sat back in her seat, arms folded. "I'm not getting out of this car."
She sounded like his five-year old niece. Flynn reluctantly reached into his breast pocket. "Molly, I want you to look at these." He started holding the pictures up in her face, one after another. The last one was the worst. "That's what we found in a cooler behind your passenger seat. In case you can't tell what they are, they're organs. Kidneys, livers, lungs, hearts from dozens of cats and dogs and other-"
She suddenly fumbled for her door handle and leaned out over the asphalt. Flynn gritted his teeth and waited, not letting himself even pat her on the shoulder. Now was not the time for that. When she was done he handed her a napkin from the glove box. The pictures were back in his pocket.
She wiped her mouth and childishly dried her eyes on the sleeves of her hoodie. "You win," she said quietly.
"I knew you could do it," he said. He reached for the small box under his seat.