"We still haven't found anything concrete, Peter, but we think that Tammy Wright was the mastermind behind the plane crash outside Minneapolis."
"Why?"
"Intuition. Dealing with other monsters in the world in other places at other times." He stared soberly at the file before him and handed it to Peter. "It's all in there."
Peter flipped through the file and stopped abruptly, picking up a thick document. "These are sealed juvenile records. How the hell did you...?"
"Peter, Peter," Kermit scolded. "Please don't embarrass yourself by finishing that question."
Peter's eyes widened as he read. "They were both charged with arson? They murdered their own parents?"
"Keep reading. The case was thrown out due to lack of evidence. All the police had then was rumor, innuendo, speculation, and the fact that none of the neighbors liked the kids."
His voice rising, Peter again questioned, "You got copies of their psych profiles, too? You got into a shrink's office and..."
Kermit shook his head and tsk-tsked. "You're doing it again, Peter."
Peter read out loud, " 'Jason has latent maniacal tendencies, as exhibited by his behavior toward small animals'? Jesus Christ, Kermit!" he exploded. "He would tie up and burn live kittens and puppies, and this doctor says Fischer has 'latent' maniacal tendencies? What was this nut doing living outside of an asylum?"
"He learned to play the game young, Peter. Tell the authorities what they want to hear when they want to hear it. Behave yourself awhile, then relocate."
Peter's hands shook as he read on. " 'Tammy exhibits all the symptoms of a sociopath, but seems able to discern the difference between right and wrong and shows genuine remorse when confronted.' Remorse, hell! She was probably just sorry she got caught!"
"Be that as it may, Peter, I've been all through her financial dealings a dozen times, and there's a hundred-thousand-dollar withdrawal made the day before the plane crash, and no trace of where the money went. No trading on stocks, no gambling debts, nothing."
Face white, Peter stared at Kermit. "How long have you known this?"
"I've had my suspicions ever since Kacie came home from Denver."
"And you didn't see fit to tell me about it?" Peter rose to his feet, the file and its contents sliding to the floor.
"I didn't see the point, Peter. By the time I'd compiled all this, the lawsuit was dropped. She checked out of her hotel, got on a plane, and flew back to Minneapolis the same day."
"Look at her profile! What makes you think she actually went there? How do we know she's not lurking around in this city someplace?" Pacing in agitation, Peter kicked the papers at his feet, scattering them everywhere.
"Because I've had a friend of a friend watching her house and her business. She's been to both, back in a normal routine for the past week." Kermit leaned back in his chair and put his feet on his desk. "I would say your problems with the Wicked Witch of the West are over."
"I wish I could be as sure as you are, Kermit. I ran into her in the lobby of my lawyer's office building." He eyes grew haunted in remembrance. "In all my experiences, Kermit, I have never seen such a look of-of pure evil." His voice grew pensive. "And then, when she saw the way I was looking at her, it was like she put on this mask. Just like that." He snapped his fingers. "Her eyes and her face showed nothing, absolutely no emotion at all. I-I've never seen anything like it."
"It's over, Peter. We can't pin the plane crash on her, but at least she's out of our city."
Peter stared down at his wedding band. "Two-hundred-six people, Kermit. Why? Why did she hate me so much she was willing to kill over two-hundred people just to get to me?"
Kermit slid his sunglasses on top of his head and his dark brown eyes bored into Peter's. "There's an angle we haven't considered yet, Peter." He swung his feet to the floor and sat up straight in his chair.
"What's that?"
"Maybe the plan wasn't to get to you."
Peter stared as the concept sunk in. "You mean it's been Kacie all along? It's Kacie she wanted revenge on, and not me?"
"What better way to get to a person than to make a loved one's life hell?"
Peter plunked down in a chair. "My God." He stood up again and resumed pacing. "My God. She's still out there. How do we know she won't just show up some day? She could still come after Kacie." His face paled. "Sweet Christ. She could wait until our baby is born and..." The thought was too horrible to put into words.
Kermit examined a hangnail on one of his fingernails. "If you really think that's a possibility, Peter..." He paused and slid his glasses down into place. "There are ways to make sure that possibility is removed. Many ways. Just say the word, and I will see to it personally."
For one microsecond, Peter considered the offer, then rejected it just as quickly. "I-I can't let you do that, Kermit. It wouldn't be right. It just wouldn't be right."
"I thought you'd say that, Peter." Kermit smiled briefly. "I simply wanted you to know I would do anything to help you keep your lady safe. Anything at all." He showed his teeth again. "And if anyone so much as breathes funny around my godchild...well, let's just say that it would be their last breath on this earth."
Peter tugged thoughtfully at his upper lip. "I'm not convinced it's Kacie she would want revenge on. I mean, Fischer's the one that went after Kacie, not the other way around. And, if anything, it was Sara who started this whole snowball rolling."
"Sara's already dead. If you're thirsting to see someone suffer, you go after a living target." Kermit shrugged. "You and Kacie are the only ones still walking around."
Sighing deeply, Peter mourned, "Just what I needed. Another family enemy to add to the list." He fidgeted restlessly in his seat. "Maybe Kacie's idea wasn't so bad. Move up somewhere in the mountains away from the world and raise our family in peace."
Kermit's face took on an almost wistful expression. "Somewhere a man can live in peace. You ever find that place, Peter, let me live in a little corner of it." He leaned back in his chair and stared moodily at the screensaver on his computer monitor. "Shangrila. Brigadoon. Somewhere over the rainbow."
"You gonna break out into song now or later, Kermit?" Peter swiftly ducked as a pencil holder sailed past his ear.