"I just need to get away from here."
Serena called after her as Lassiter broke from the others and made her way to the door that led out of the temple. "Wait, he could still be in the house."
"No, he's gone," Lassiter replied. "He's not coming back."
39
That's Mitchell Brandt," Stride said. He put his coffee cup on the dashboard of the Cadillac and leaned forward to watch.
"He's in a hurry," Teitscher said.
Brandt slammed the front door of Sonia Bezac's house and ran down the sidewalk toward the street. His open coat billowed behind him. He wore black jeans and an untucked, unbuttoned dress shirt. The shirt fell open, and they saw his bare chest. He took off across the street, dodging through the headlights of a car that blared its horn at him. He climbed into a dark Porsche.
"I don't like this," Stride said.
"Should we pick him up?"
"No, let's see where he goes."
Teitscher radioed Guppo in a tan Caprice around the corner. "Brandt is on his way. He's hauling ass. Stay on his tail, but don't make it obvious."
The Porsche shot off down the residential street and vanished, heading into the steep curves leading toward the lake. The Caprice accelerated onto the same street moments later.
"Do you want to go in?" Teitscher asked.
"Not yet."
They waited fifteen minutes. The other members of the club streamed out of the house in pockets of ones and twos, hiding their sullen faces from each other as they left. They formed a procession out of the neighborhood, and soon headlights swung past them one after another, driving fast.
Serena was among the last to leave. She took quick, tight steps from the house. Her down vest was unzipped, and her face was tense with worry. She eyed the people around her and then bent down and scrambled inside the backseat of the Cadillac. She fell back against the leather seat and whistled long and loud.
"What the hell happened in there?" Stride asked.
Serena put her elbows on the front seat between them. "Brandt freaked."
"What?"
"He attacked Kathy Lassiter right in front of everyone."
"Did someone stop him?"
Serena nodded. "I did. Lassiter says she's okay, but Brandt was out of his skull. When I broke it up, he bolted."
"We saw him. Guppo's on his tail."
Teitscher was still watching Sonia's front door. "What set Brandt off?"
"I don't know. He was on edge all night. He never took his eyes off Lassiter."
"What about you?" Stride asked. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, but you know what they say to do when you're nervous? Just imagine everyone naked and you'll relax? It doesn't work when they're really naked."
Stride couldn't help but laugh.
"Perverts," Teitscher snapped.
"Do you think Brandt is our man?" Stride asked. "Could he have attacked the other women?"
"I don't know. This wasn't random. It was more like he had a grudge against Lassiter."
"Did something happen between them?"
Serena shook her head. "No, that's it, nothing happened. He came into the room with a hard-on for her, if you know what I mean. It was personal."
"Personal? Like they knew each other?"
"I think so, yeah."
Teitscher glanced at Stride. "What do we know about Lassiter?"
"Not enough," Stride said. He was angry with himself.
"She's a lawyer, right?" Serena asked. "See if her law firm has a bio on their Web site."
Stride grabbed his laptop and ran a search that led him to the law firm's home page. He drilled down to the lawyer biographies and pulled up a page for Lassiter that included a photo and a summary of her practice areas and experience. He read through the narrative and then swore and slammed the cover down.
"Kathy Lassiter is outside counsel for Infloron Medical."
"You think she fed advance info on the FDA approval to Brandt?" Serena asked. "And he used it to do inside trades?"
"Either that, or she's the one who fingered him to the SEC. Proutz in Chicago said they got an anonymous tip."
Teitscher was frowning. "What do you want to do?"
"Pick him up," Stride said. "He assaulted her. We can use that to hold him."
"We need to make sure the net around Lassiter is secure," Serena added. "Brandt may go after her again, and if he's not our guy, then she's got two people who may be gunning for her."
Teitscher stared at Sonia's front door. "We have a problem."
"What is it?" Stride asked.
"Lassiter never came out."
Serena leaned forward into the front seat. "What are you talking about? She should have been one of the first ones out the door."
"I've been watching everyone," Teitscher said, shaking his head. "Lassiter never left."
40
Sonia threw open the door. Her red hair was a mass of limp curls, like sleeping snakes. She wore a robe loosely tied at her waist, and her body smelled of sex. "What are you people doing here? Haven't you done enough?"
"Where's Kathy Lassiter?" Stride demanded.
Sonia shrugged. "You should know that. You're the spies."
"She's still inside," Teitscher insisted. The furrows in his forehead stretched taut, and his eyes registered disapproval, flicking over the deep V of open skin between the folds of her robe. Sonia read his expression.
"You think I have her tied to a bed somewhere? Sorry, Detective. She left."
"Can we look in the house?" Serena asked.
Sonia curled her lip and shook her head at them. "You can stand out here and freeze for all I care."
"Sonia," Stride chided her.
"Oh, fuck it, all right." She held the door wider, and they poured in. Along with musk and perfume, Stride smelled alcohol on Sonia's breath. She swayed on her feet. Her nipples protruded in two bumps through the silk robe.
"I'll check upstairs," Serena said.
Teitscher stood uncomfortably in the foyer, as if he were dipping new shoes in mud. His cell phone rang, and Stride watched his face blacken as he listened to the call. He snapped his phone shut and clenched it in his fist. "That was Guppo," he told Stride. "Brandt jumped a red light downtown, and Guppo got stuck in traffic. He lost him."
"Shit," Stride swore. Things were getting out of control. Teitscher crooked a thumb at the front door, and Stride nodded. "Go, go. Get an ATL out in Duluth and Superior. Use the highway police, too, in case he's headed south on the interstate."
Teitscher left.
Stride checked the living room. The lights were low, and the room was empty.
Sonia trailed behind him. "I told you, she's not here."
"She didn't fly away," Stride snapped.
He pushed past her and headed for the opposite side of the house, but found no sign of Lassiter in any of the downstairs rooms.
"Where's Delmar?" he asked.
"Sleeping," Sonia replied.
"Alone?"
Sonia snickered. "Unless Serena wants to give him a go. He might not even need Viagra with her."
Stride felt his patience wearing down, like a bare patch of carpet that's been walked on too many times. "Show me the basement."
"All the fun's over down there."
"Just show me."
Sonia shrugged and led him to a staircase that descended to a closed oak door below him. It was heavy but unlocked. Sonia was on his heels as he crossed into the temple. He smelled smoke from the burnt-out candles, and he felt on the wall for a light switch, bathing the room in fluorescent light.
He squinted, and Sonia shielded her eyes. He sized up the room with a pit of dismay in his stomach. The sheets on the circular bed were soiled. Condom wrappers littered the floor, along with wine stains and glass. The musk of lovemaking was strong here. For an instant, he saw Maggie, draped on the bed, and felt an irrational anger.