A Dangerous Remedy: A Sheriff Matt Callahan Mystery by Russell Fee

Author:Russell Fee [Fee, Russell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boreas Press
Published: 2017-05-24T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 34

Amanda thought she must be in the wrong place. The instructions in her hand clearly directed her to room 3427 of East Hall on the campus of the University of Michigan. She checked the numbers above the untitled entrance a second time to make sure they read 3427. They did, but that address did not house the score of offices she’d expected to find. Instead, the view through the narrow sidelight showed a single small windowless room. She was about to curse Julie silently for writing down the wrong address when someone behind her said, “May I help you?”

Amanda turned and saw a young man in his early twenties wearing faded jeans and an even more faded tee shirt, so washed out in fact that she couldn’t read the letters or logo on its front.

“Yes,” she said, and glanced at the paper in her hand. “I’m looking for—”

“—the Center for the Study of Domestic Terrorism.” He completed the sentence for her.

“Yes, I—”

“—thought it would be much bigger?” He did it again.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Most everyone thinks that. Come on in.” He opened the door, ushered her in, and motioned for her to sit in one of the two chairs at the table desk on the side of the room. He sat in the other chair, not in the sleek executive chair behind the desk. “Our funding comes through the university, compliments of a generous donation from a single alumnus. But it’s not that generous. Only enough for three of us, two full-timers and one part-timer, and everything you see around you: the computers and all. The university doesn’t like us much. We’re controversial because of whom we target and how we label them. Parents have threatened not to send their kids here because of us, and alumnae have threatened not to contribute if the university continues to fund us. By the way, I’m the part-timer. I’m working on my dissertation in, of all things, domestic terrorism. I expected you sooner today.”

The cascade of information delivered as a nonstop colloquy almost caused Amanda to miss the last comment. “I’m sorry. What was that?” she said.

“I expected you sooner today,” he repeated.

“It was a long trip. I came from Nicolet County.” Amanda held up her right hand, palm facing him, and pointed with her left hand just to the right of the tip of her pinky. “It’s an island in Lake Michigan and a two-hour ferry ride and four-hour road trip to Ann Arbor.”

“That is a long way. It’s dinner time, or at least it’s my dinner time. You hungry? Good Time Charley’s has decent food and drink and is a good place to hang out. Better than this airless chamber. I could answer all your questions there while we eat, if you like.”

What Amanda liked was the eye contact. When he talked, his eyes did not swim all over her like the eyes of almost all the men she’d ever met. She also liked the sandy hair and the way he sported a beard that was just beyond stubble.

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