Cole rushed into Embarcadero Center to search it again. This time, though, he could use a system. Not that he felt a hundred per cent confident about anticipating her moves, but if
Where, despite his careful scrutiny, he still almost missed her.
Maybe it was the long fingers spread across the back of her book that made him turn around, or the title on the book’s spine, registering after he passed her.
She had gone quasi-Goth. Her blouse, black, had sleeves ending in long ruffles. A black skirt came down over black platform boots to her ankles. Brunette hair the color of redwood hung around her shoulders, hiding her ears and some of her face. What showed had black lipstick and eyes like holes…heavily lined in black, with dark purple eye shadow. A black coat or cape lay folded over the table’s fourth chair.
Cole circled her several times to satisfy himself this
The offices were empty, a seal on the front doors. Waiting for the forensic search of the computer.
Before checking Homicide to see if everyone had returned there, Cole went back to Irah. She still looked settled, and if he were right she would remain there as long as she could without attracting attention. But he found himself reluctant to let her out of his sight, afraid that if he did, she would disappear again.
Suddenly her heart rate jumped. He quickly spotted the reason, a pair of uniformed officers, strolling her direction. Though looking everyone over, they did not appear to notice her. Should he leave them ignorant and go tell Razor? If he let them know, however, they could arrest her quietly. Not have half the PD come charging in here, led by Special Operations. But how did he communicate with them? He had no time to go soak up heat for a materialization. He had to act now.
Cole looked around. There was the way Red’s hometown ghost made herself visible, of course. Not a solution he liked. Chilling things might drive everyone out of the area, including Irah. Maybe the open space would spread the heat loss out enough to make it less severe. He saw no other choice.
Imagining himself as a sponge, or inhaling with his whole body, he began drawing in heat. But there was so much less of it than in a car engine. He sucked harder, deeper, scrambling to build enough for materialization as he moved past Irah and toward the officers.
As he used rear vision to keep track of Irah, he saw people at the table nearest him shiver, then those at tables farther away. They reached for jackets. A couple stood and walked away. One of the women at Irah’s table did, too.
The Oriental officer of the pair hunched his shoulders. “Man, who opened the freezer door?”
Cole hoped he had enough heat. Time to see. He circled behind a tree and visualized himself as his sister Trish…with a star in his jacket pocket and his arm in a sling, so they would not expect assistance with the arrest. The moment he felt weight, he stepped from behind the tree into the officers’ path, keeping voice low. “Yo, guys. Hold up a minute.”
They halted, expressions polite…Silvela and Yee, according to their name tags. “Yes, ma’am. What can we do for you?”
He showed them the star. “I’m Lieutenant Trish Deckard, Ingleside District. I’m on sick leave but one of the security guards I know told me you’re hunting Irah Carrasco? That she’s suspected of killing an officer?”
Her name brought them on alert. “You sound like you know her,” Yee said.
“Yes. And she’s sitting at a table just down the concourse. Don’t look! She’s watching you. When I passed her I could tell.” What Irah thought about two officers focused on thin air in front of them, he had no idea, only hoped it did not spook her. “She’s the brunette.”
Both officers glanced down the concourse from the corners of their eyes, heart rates picking up. Silvela said skeptically, “Are you sure? She’s just sitting there reading.”
Cole nodded. “I met her when one of their stores in our district was burglarized. And women know other women, no matter what they’re wearing.” Whether true or not, it sounded good. “Ah…I wouldn’t do that,” he said as one of the officers started to reach for his radio. “She’ll know she’s been made. I’m thinking you ought to arrest her now, quietly, while you have the chance, then call it in.”
The two exchanged glances. “How do we have a chance when she knows we’re here?”
Cole explained his idea, prepared for skepticism, but they were young enough to feel the weight of the rank he had given himself. They agreed to do it. So he stepped aside and they continued on toward Irah. Back behind the tree again, he let go, then followed them.
They approached, seemingly ignoring her, discussing the Giants’ chance at the World Series this year. As they started to pass, Silvela halted and looked down at her. “Say, is that a good book?”
Yee halted several steps later, putting him behind her.
Irah looked up with no outward indication of nervousness. Her heart rate, though, said adrenaline was pumping. “Yes. It’s fascinating how he got away with all those impersonations.”
“What’s your name?” Silvela asked.
Her brows rose. Her heart rate went higher, too. “Fiona Brazaski.” She smiled at him then back over her shoulder at Yee. “Are you trying to pick me up?”
“May I see some identification?”
“What’s this about?” the other woman at the table asked.
Silvela gave her a bland smile. “Just routine. Miss Brazaski?”
Irah closed her book, pulled a billfold from the pocket of her skirt, and took out a driver’s license.
“Fiona Brazaski, brunette, blue eyes,” Silvela read. “Can you repeat your birth date for me?”
“June fifth, 1977.” She gave him an anxious frown. “Have I done something wrong?”
She had probably memorized the birth date, anticipating that she might be asked for it, but reeling it off with no hesitation impressed Cole.
Silvela glanced toward Yee. Cole groaned at the uncertainty in it.
Yee said, “Look at this, Irah.”
She started to turn her head…caught herself. Too late. And knew it. She breathed a curse.
Cole grinned. Good job!
“Why don’t you take off the wig, Miss Carrasco,” Silvela said.
Irah stared hard at him for a long moment, then smiling wryly, reached up and pulled off the wig. While the other woman gaped, she ran her hands back through her own hair and shook it out. “I guess I’m busted.” She stood, and stepping clear of the chair, put her hands behind her back.
Cole’s spine prickled. He had hoped they could take her without a struggle but this was too easy. After her statements to Flaxx about not going to jail…after killing Sara supposedly to prevent that… she was just giving up?
But she stood passive while Silvela cuffed her and patted her down for weapons, and while Yee, voice carefully neutral, informed Communications of the arrest. With one of them holding each of her arms, they led her down to the ground level and out to their patrol unit.
She smiled at them. “I thought my disguise was good. You guys are sharp. This ought to earn you a commendation.”
Walking beside them, Cole could see them start thinking about that. He frowned. They needed to stay focused. While the officers’ heart rates had returned to normal, Irah’s continued racing, still pumped for action. She was planning something.
Yet they reached the car without incident and put her in the back.
Then as Silvela started the engine, she said, “Wait. I forgot my cape. It’s still back there at the table.”
Not forgot. Cole felt sure she knew very well they were leaving it. She probably intended to do so, stepping away from the table so it would be overlooked as they arrested her. Leaning down to the passenger window, he told Yee, “Forget about the cape. Take her straight to the Hall.”
