'Nice town. Enjoying LA?'
'I’m not here for enjoyment. I’m working.'
'You can’t work all the time.'
'Look, Detective-'
'Jim.'
'I’m involved with a case right now.'
'So am I. Whole bunch of cases. How many open cases we got, Al?'
'More than I can count, Jimbo.' Al Bradley spoke in an exhausted baritone.
'More than he can count,' Dodge said, 'and that’s using his fingers and toes. We catch one bad guy, another pops up to replace him. The job never ends. To stay sane, you’ve got to loosen up a little. Not everything is life- and-death.'
'That’s a funny attitude for a homicide detective to take.'
'I’m just saying you can’t let a case take over your life.'
'I already have.'
'Oh, I get it. This time it’s personal.'
He wanted to be funny, but the joke hurt her like a slap.
'Extremely personal,' she said.
The doors opened, and she stepped out. Behind her, Dodge said, 'Hey.' He was holding a business card. 'In case you get lonely.'
'No, thanks.'
'Take it. It’s good for a free dinner.'
Because she didn’t have time to debate the issue, she took the card and stuffed it in the side pocket of her jacket without even giving it a look.
'That’s my cell number. You can reach me anytime.' He smiled. 'It’s my snitch card. You know, the one I give out-'
'To informants. I’m glad to join such elevated company.'
She walked away, not looking back, and heard Al Bradley ask his partner, 'What the hell was that all about?'
The elevator doors slid shut before she heard Detective Dodge’s answer.
She had been rude to him, but-oh, hell, it didn’t matter.
Larkin buzzed her into suite 1700 and greeted her in the reception room. 'You must’ve exceeded a few posted speed limits,' he said.
'All in a good cause. Which room is he in?'
'Whoa, not so fast. Andrus wants to brief you first.'
'Can’t you handle that?'
'You know, Agent McCallum, most people wouldn’t turn up their nose at a meeting with the AD.'
'I guess my instinct for personal advancement isn’t as refined as it could be.'
'I’d say that’s obvious.' Larkin opened the door to the interior corridor with a card key and led Tess out of the reception area.
Tess waited almost a full minute before allowing him to know that he’d gotten to her. 'What made you say that?' she asked as they strode down a carpeted corridor past rows of squad room doors.
Larkin didn’t bother to glance back at her. 'Say what?'
'Don’t play around. It’s boring.'
'You mean my comment about your career advancement? All I meant was that you’re still stuck in the Denver office, when by now you probably could’ve been-should’ve been-an SAC or at least an ASAC somewhere.'
'By now. After Black Tiger, you mean.'
'You got everybody’s attention with that bust, but you didn’t know how to use it. So now you’re taking orders from guys like Michaelson-and taking a lot of shit from people like me.'
She couldn’t argue. By his own petty logic Larkin was right. She had been on the fast track, and if her career had stalled, it was no one’s fault but her own.
'Speaking of Michaelson, did I beat him here?' she asked.
'Got here a few minutes ago.'
'Damn.'
'Don’t get your knickers in a twist. You haven’t missed much.'
'How would you know?'
'The interrogation is just under way. They’re probably still working up the nerve to Mirandize the guy.'
This was likely to be true. The recitation of the Miranda warnings was a tricky business that had to be approached with care. Handle it wrong, and the suspect would insist on seeing his lawyer, ending the interview before it began. The trick was to lead up casually to the warnings, then deliver them in a perfunctory tone that minimized the importance of the ritual. If the suspect thought the reading was a formality, he would usually waive his rights.
'I still wish you’d waited,' she said irritably.
'Point taken and duly noted.'
'Who is he? What’s his name?'
'The AD will tell you everything you need to know.'
'Right.' You officious little prick. 'How long has Andrus been here?'
He looked at her, a thin, ambiguous smile riding on his lips. 'Little while now.'
She didn’t see what was so funny. She continued the walk in silence.
With its carpeted floors, fluorescent lighting fixtures, and utilitarian furnishings, suite 1700 could have passed for the headquarters of any bland corporate enterprise, and in fact much of the work done here was decidedly white-collar-investigations of check-fraud rings, telemarketing scams, Ponzi schemes, and assorted nonviolent activities. That was the more genteel part of the operation. Then there was the stuff that made the news-bank robberies, star stalkings, drug busts, an occasional high-profile abduction, and terrorism, the bureau’s new focus, the crime of the new millennium.
The LA field division was one of the bureau’s largest, employing six hundred agents and covering a vast metropolitan sprawl. For these reasons, and because LA was a nexus of media coverage, the office was run by an assistant director, rather than a special agent in charge. Andrus had been on the job for two years, and no doubt would be promoted before long to a stint at bureau headquarters in DC. Unlike Tess, the AD’s instinct for career advancement had never been in need of any honing.
She and Larkin reached a corner of the suite, where the media office and the office of the assistant director were arranged catercorner in evident acknowledgment of the importance of public relations in the AD’s job profile.
Andrus’s voice-thin, reedy, with carefully cultivated enunciation-was audible through his open door.
'What do you mean, deteriorated?'
A beat of silence as an answer was given. Andrus was on the phone.
'Hard target? You mean she’s on to you, for Christ’s sake?…Damn it, Tennant, you can’t afford to screw this up.'
Tennant. The name was familiar to Tess, but she couldn’t place it.
'All right, all right. Let me know as soon as you’ve got them in custody.'
The conversation was over. Tess wondered what it had been about. But she dismissed the question. It didn’t matter.
Whoever Tennant was and whatever he was involved in, it had nothing to do with her.
3
Amanda Pierce had hoped to lose her pursuers nearly six hours ago, when she had driven through Sacramento.
