Flash and Bones - Kathy Reichs [32]
A minute later he was ready.
“Lynn Marie Hobbs attended NC State from ’ninety-eight until 2001. Didn’t graduate. Married a guy named Dean Nolan in 2002, now goes by Lynn Nolan.”
Static spit from the radio. Slidell reached out and twisted the knob.
“After leaving school, Nolan returned to the old homestead. Works for an outfit called the Cryerton Respiratory Research Institute. CRRI. Headquarters is in some sort of industrial park near China Grove.”
I thought a moment. “The Southeast Regional Research Park?”
“That’s it.”
China Grove is a stone’s throw from Kannapolis.
“I assume we’re heading there now?”
“Eeyuh.”
“Is Nolan expecting us?”
“I figure a surprise might liven things up.”
“What does CRRI do?”
“Call me crazy, but I’m guessing they spend a lot of time thinking about lungs.”
Pointedly, I turned my face toward the window.
Corn rows marched to the horizon, dark and shimmery in the afternoon heat. Above them, a red-tailed hawk looped lazy circles low in the sky.
Instead of returning to I-77, Slidell cut west on NC-152. Just before China Grove, he made three right turns, then a left onto a wide paved road.
No cornfields here. Wild flowers as far as the eye could see. A veritable Monet ocean of color.
A quarter mile up the blacktop, redbrick walls stretched to each shoulder, and large iron gates blocked access to manicured grounds beyond. A stone plaque identified the Southeast Regional Research Park.
Slidell stopped at the guardhouse and lowered his window. A uniformed young man emerged with a clipboard. “May I help you?”
“We’re looking for Lynn Nolan.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll check the list.”
“We aren’t on it.”
“I’m sorry, but—”
Slidell held out his badge.
The man studied it earnestly. “Do you have a warrant?”
“Why? Something going on here gonna cause problems?”
“I’ll have to call for clearance.”
“No,” Slidell said. “You won’t. Nolan works for CRRI. Where do I find her?”
“Building Three. Second floor.”
“You have a real special day.” Slidell hit a button and his window hummed up.
The man retreated, the gates opened, and Slidell drove through.
The Southeast Regional Research Park looked like a small college campus in Mississippi. Brick buildings fronted by broad steps, Greco-Roman pillars, porticos, and pediments. Covered parking garages. Well-groomed gardens. Boisterously green grass which seemed to stretch for several hundred acres. Small lake complete with ducks, geese, and a swan.
Yet nothing stirred. The effect was like one of those disaster movies in which a virus destroys life but leaves the hardscape intact.
Building 3 was a four-story number on Progress Avenue. Flanking both sides were half-completed foundations, suggesting progress had been less than desired.
Ignoring the no-parking signs, Slidell pulled to the curb. We got out and entered Building 3 through tinted glass doors.
The lobby was all gleaming rosewood and marble, with a futuristic stone sculpture parked in the center. A directory verified that CRRI was located in 204.
A spotless elevator took us to the second floor. There the decorator’s palette had been labeled something like sand or wheat. Beige walls, beige trim, beige carpet, beige chairs, each shade just a hair off the others. The only color came from framed black and whites with highlighted details. A woman’s red lips. A green umbrella. A blue and yellow tail dangling from a kite.
Room 204 was halfway down on the right.
A woman occupied a desk directly opposite and facing the door. She was tiny, with caramel eyes, sun-bronzed skin, and long brown hair spilling from a barrette atop her head.
When we entered, the woman’s eyes widened. A manicured hand flew to her mouth. “Are you really going to arrest me?”
So much for the guard not announcing our presence.
THE WOMAN WATCHED US CROSS TO THE DESK, HER BODY RIGID with apprehension.
“Lynn Nolan?” Not a bark, but close.
Nolan nodded, lavender-tipped fingers still pressed to her lips. Slidell flipped his badge. “Got some questions about