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                                            CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

                                                      Bad Chemistry

1:35 p.m.

Reggie awoke, covered in sweat and stared at the curvature of the Quonset hut ceiling. A dry heat had cooked him. Slowly, achingly, he got up from the filthy, uncomfortable couch, stumbled to the ice chest, reached inside and splashed cool melted ice on his face. He pulled off his shirt. The water ran down his back and chest. On the workbench he found a plastic cup, poured bottled water into it, rinsed it out, then refilled it and drank it down.

Before going to sleep around nine o'clock that morning, he recalled that Lucilva drove the Jeep back to town to take care of business–she said. Reggie suspected she was worried about the unwelcome attention that might be on their desert enterprize. Adams, who Lucilva told not to let on about Jackie around I.Q., suggested they move the lab to an abandoned pig farm north of Baker. King, Josh, Joaquin, the Hispanic biker, and his girlfriend, Pepsi, packed food and water and biked over a back road to check it out. Before they left, I.Q. asked about the move. Adams had explained it was for better security. I.Q. hadn't questioned him. But Reggie noticed something in I.Q.'s face. It was his intelligence informing his gullibility to take a back seat.

Keeping Jackie's death from I.Q. was depressing. But I.Q. wouldn't be able to handle the news. The deal would be dead. He'd be out of a lot of money. There was no doubt in his mind that I.Q. would hate his guts when it was all over. But the money was more than he could make legitimately at this time in his life. It was probably a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and he decided that he wouldn't bring Jackie back by sacrificing his future–or I.Q.'s, for that matter.

Reggie poked his head into the stifling motorhome. I.Q. looked as if he'd stepped out of the shower. His red hair was plastered against his head. Sweat soaked his blue T-shirt. It stuck to his skinny frame. His bony legs protruded like white dripping candles from a navy blue swimsuit. Beside him, Adams wore no shirt, and his muscles glistened.

"Come on, Reg," I.Q. said. "Waitin' for you."

Adams rolled his eyes. "Chemistry 101 is about to start."

* * *

"Your mother's going to rip off your arm and beat you with it," Joe grumbled. "And when she gets tired, I'll take over."

"I didn't bring him here," Leah spoke up, "so you could abuse the kid."

"Sit down," Joe said to Robby, whose hair was uncombed, clothing wrinkled and stained.

"I'm thirsty," he said, sitting down in the armchair by the air conditioner. He turned his face to the cold air. Leah walked with noticeable confidence to the bathroom and filled a glass with water. She brought it back to Robby as he pressed his hands between his legs, closed his eyes, and let the cold air wash away the hot flush from his face.

"Here," she said, offering the glass. He drank it all and handed it back to her.

"Where'd you find him?"

"Wandering down the street."

"I was looking for you," Robby said.

Joe leaned against the fake-oak dresser, folded his arms. "What a coincidence."

"His friend left him stranded," Leah said, as if explaining a minor crises to a child's parent.

"Where'd T.J. go?"

"Heck if I know," Robby said. "If I did, I'd kick his butt."

"You look like hell," Joe commented.

"Feel like it."

"Where've you been?"

"Looking for Jackie," he replied, as if it were a dumb question. "I thought you'd've figured that one out by now."

"Don't get smart." Joe wondered where his politeness had gone. "If you knew I was coming here, why'd you sneak off with your little friend to find Jackie?"

"A favor. T.J. told me about her, what happened to her and stuff, and how her mom was going to hire a detective, and he wanted my help to bring her back."

"Why the hell didn't he just let me do my job?"

Robby shook his head, saying: "You gotta know T.J."

Joe moved to the bed across from the armchair and sat down. "Tell me."

"He's different, that’s all. And flipped out about Jackie. Nutso. She kinda dumped him for this Reggie guy. T.J.'s really straight–about drugs and stuff–he wants to be a cop–so when Jayne said Jackie ran away with this guy and that she was doing drugs, it pissed him off. You gotta understand, Mr. Cox. T.J. doesn't have anything really going for him but his brain. Got this fantasy I guess you'd call it. Damsel in distress thing."

"What was he going to do when he found her?"

"Heck if I know. I asked him, too. All he said was he had a plan. He thinks he can talk her into coming back with him, and that she'll like him again. At the time it sounded simple."

Joe folded his hands on top of his head. "And Reggie? Did he say how he was going to get passed him?"

"Didn't say and I didn't ask. I don't think he has everything figured out. First he just wanted to find her. Which we did."

Joe dropped his hands, leaned forward, caught himself showing too much interest, and tried changing his position on the bed as if it were getting uncomfortable.

Leah appeared overwhelmed with surprise and turned to Joe. Her mouth opened. She caught Joe's subtle caution in his face. And, for once, closed her mouth.

* * *

I.Q. held up a beaker of dark liquid. "Palladium Black."

Picking his nose, Adams asked, "What's it do?"

"A catalyst. It causes an increase in the rate of chemical reaction." I.Q. held up a roll of aluminum foil. "Another catalyst. And this is hydrogen–it's flammable." He pointed to a tray of test tubes filled with various liquids. "Let's talk about reagents. Okay. Say you want to know the composition of another chemical. The reagent ascertains the nature of the chemical." He mopped his forehead with his forearm. "And how? By their reciprocal chemical reaction. Get it?"

Reggie didn't get it, but he nodded anyway. In fact his mind was in other places. All the money they could make was being pushed from his conscience by his keeping Jackie's murder a secret from I.Q. Why waste time with this? He had to find out what was happening with Jackie's investigation. Or did he? Fact is, he didn't kill her. The cops would do their job. Or would they? It was a cop she'd left with. And where had she been for over twenty-four hours before he'd discovered her body in his bathtub?

"Reg?" I.Q. said, waving his hand in his face. "You listening? This is important if you're going to help."

"What do you mean if? You think I'm expendable, too?"

"I didn't say that."

"Don't think I'm going to weasel out."

"No, Reg. Who said that? I need you. I need Bear. If we're going to get this done fast."

Adams said: "Take it easy, man."

"You take it easy," Reggie replied calmly. "He's the brains. But don't anybody forget: I'm in charge of this kitchen." He turned on I.Q. "I'm in charge, right?"

"Sure, Reg," I.Q. said, nodding vigorously. "We're buddies."

That got to him.

Reggie scanned the maze of equipment and chemicals. "Too hot for this now," he said. "And we might move the whole operation anyway. Let's can it, until we know what's going on."

Bear nodded. I.Q. said: "You're the boss."

Reggie went for the door, but it swung open, banging against the window hard enough to rattle the lab like a wind chime. Standing in the door was the mousey-faced Otto Steiger, grinning, holding a battery-operated fan to his face.

"You were supposed to call me," he said to Reggie. When he stepped up into the motorhome and saw he wasn't alone, he added: "To give me directions."

"How'd you find the place?" Reggie said.

"Hey. I'm a private dick."

You sure are, he thought.

* * *

"When did you find Jackie?" Joe asked.

Robby looked at the ceiling a moment and said: "Friday afternoon. Right after we got here. We were stoked."

"Where'd you see her?"

"Greasy spoon down by the lake."

Leah piped up: "Doone's Café?"

"That's it. She and her two boyfriends came in, took a booth while we were eating lunch. T.J. was ready to go over to them, but I convinced him it wasn't the best time. He's kinda wimpy. I thought he'd get his butt kicked. So T.J. snuck out through the kitchen and waited in the car, and, since she'd never seen me, I watched from inside."

Joe knew the story had come to a crucial point. He was impatient to ask questions, but decided to let Robby tell it at his own pace.

Robby looked around the motel room. "Our room's bigger. What'd you pay for this?"

"Forget that," Joe said. "What happened?"

"The bus showed up. They left her there alone. I thought she was going to take the bus, so I went to the car and told T.J. He went in to do his thing. He comes back pissed off. She'd split. Must've gone out the back door."

Joe wouldn't mention that she'd called her mother and left out the back with a cop named Tooley. "Then what?"

"Couldn't find her. By four o'clock or so we were back at the motel. T.J. was antsy. Now that he'd seen her, the obsession was, like, too real, you know? He blamed me. We got in a big fight. He left, then came back after I was asleep. On Saturday, we drove around again, but he wasn't a fun guy to be with–and I wasn't getting anything out of it, except a lot of trouble from mom. I was trying to be a friend. He kept dumping on me. So I told him to let me off at the lake. He went and I swam. When I was laying on the little beach there drying off, I got thinking about things. Seemed to me that all he talked about Saturday was finding Reggie. He figured if we found Reggie, we'd find Jackie. Except, why did they leave her at the restaurant with no transportation, huh? Made no sense. And then, it was weird. I'm laying on the beach, right? And this white Mustang drives by with Reggie in it. I didn't recognize Miss Levin driving, but I sure noticed you following in the Beamer. When you dropped Reggie off at the cabins at the other end of the lake, I walked back to the motel. T.J. wasn't there. He didn't come back until dark. I told him where I saw Reggie, but I warned him that you were hot on his trail. What were you doing there?"

"Never mind. What did T.J. do?"

"Heck if I know. Said he was going to snoop around. But he wouldn't take me. I mean, I come all this way and he leaves me in the motel. I was pissed off. And I said so. He didn't react. Usually he likes to argue a point, you know. This time he just walked out. I watched from the window. He drove toward the lake."

"What time was that?" Leah asked.

He shrugged. "Seven or eight maybe."

"When did he come home?" Joe asked.

"I was asleep. I know he came back, though, because when I woke up this morning he was gone–and so was his suitcase. I called his parent's house. His mom said he wasn't there, and then she started asking questions, so I hung up. That's when I went looking for you and Miss Levin found me."

It was almost two o'clock. He didn't want Robby there when Teddi Weldon arrived. "Take him to your room, Leah."

"I'm a little hungry, Mr. Cox."

"We'll get you something to eat," Leah said. To Joe: "What about his mother?"

He thought about that one. "I'll call her."

Leah screwed up her mouth in disappointment but kept her mouth closed. Progress. "Come on," she said. She opened the door. Standing there was Teddi Weldon, her face red and blotchy, her eyes wet and hollow from crying, ready to knock. Leah nodded and led Robby away.

"Hi, Joe," Teddi said and collapsed on the floor.