save your life.’
Sharky understood her dilemma. Too much had happened for her to fully comprehend or accept.
‘Just trust us, please. Believe me, you’re in great danger as long as you stay here.’
‘Trust you?’ she said. ‘You’ve already lied to me. . . that ridiculous story about the elevator. Now all this.’
‘I’m sorry about that. There won’t be any more lies, believe me. Now will you please throw some clean clothes in your bag so we can get out of here?’
‘I want to call somebody,’ she said.
‘What do you mean, call somebody?’
‘I mean, call somebody 1 know. I don’t even know you. I don’t know him. One minute you tell me you’re one thing, the next minute you’re something else. Now you want to drag me off somewhere. For all I know, you two may have killed Tiffany. Or maybe she isn’t even dead. God, I don’t know what to think.’
Domino’s confidence was returning, the self-assurance, the impudence. Her shoulders seemed straighter, she held her chin up high, but with all the straining for composure there was still fear in her eyes. And Sharky’s relief at finding her alive was beginning to turn to anger. He was tense and frustrated and his nerves tingled with lack of sleep. He recognized a volatile situation building up and he had to move to stop it. He stood up and taking her by the arm led her to the window and pointed to the other tower. ‘See that apartment up there on the corner? That’s where he waited. He’s like a cobra. No conscience. He’s killed fifty people. Fifty people! He killed a man and cut off his hands so we couldn’t identify the victim. He found out those people were out of town and he broke into that apartment and he sat there all day, very patiently, waiting for your lights to come on and when he saw them he came over here and he rang the bell and when Tiffany opened the door he blew her head off with a double-barrelled shotgun. She was dead when she hit the floor. We couldn’t even identify her. We thought it was you. Now pretty soon he’s gonna find out, see, that he made a mistake and when he does he’s gonna come back, because that’s what he’s all about. He’s out there someplace, in the dark, waiting. Maybe he knows already. Maybe he’s up on the roof watching us right now. Or waiting in the back seat of your car. Or maybe just outside the door there —‘
‘Stop it!’ she cried.
‘Am I making my point?’
‘He’s right, you know,’ Livingston said from the door way. ‘You stay here and you might just as well hang a target on your forehead and sit in the window waiting for it to come.’
‘Ohhh.’ She shuddered.
‘We’re not doing this for effect,’ Sharky said. ‘We want to keep you alive, Domino, and not just because it’s our job. I like you. We thought.. . we thought we lost you once. We don’t want it to happen again.’ He turned to Livingston. ‘Are we set?’
Livingston nodded. ‘The place is safe and comfortable. Clean. It beats the bell out of a pine box.’
She held her hand up and stopped him. ‘All right. That’s enough. I don’t understand any of this, but you’ve convinced me.’
She got up and went to the bedroom. ‘May I change? I’ve been in these clothes all day.’
‘Keep away from the windows,’ Sharky said.
‘Will you stop saying things like that!’
‘I’m not trying to scare you,’ Sharky said. ‘I mean it. Stay away from the windows.’
‘Where am I going?’
Livingston said, ‘I’ll tell you when we get there. The less you know now, the better.’
She went into the bedroom and closed the door. She leaned against the dresser and saw Tiffany’s suitcase and the tears started to come back. She shook them off. She looked at the window and suddenly it was no longer just a pane of glass — it was an ominous threat. A sense of danger crept over her and she suddenly found it hard to breathe. She opened her own suitcase, threw the dirty clothes on the floor, and aimlessly, thoughtlessly put clean things in their place, then changed into jeans, a check shirt, and boots. And all the time the questions gnawed at her.
Why? Who?
But that only made it worse. She turned her thoughts to Sharky and she felt strangely reassured. She felt a link to him, a lifeline that tied them together. Her lifeline. Her danger was now his danger and because of that she sensed a new strength in him, something she had not felt before. A cop, she thought. And that was far more appealing than an elevator man.
How much did he know? About her? Tiffany? Did he know about Donald? And Victor?
She would have to tell Donald. He was certain to find out about the shooting and he might do something foolish. He was capable of such a thoughtful gesture, but he could not afford to be linked with this. The least she could do was call him, tell him she was all right, tell him to keep out of it.
She went back to the bedroom and stood beside the phone, remembering Sharky’s reaction when she had threatened to call somebody.
Oh, hell, she thought, it can’t hurt to put his mind at ease. He had his own problems; he didn’t need any of hers. She picked up the receiver and quietly punched out his private number, a phone by the bedside in his suite that only he answered. It buzzed several times while she watched the door, fearful that either Sharky or Livingston might come
He Isn’t there, she thought, and was about to hang up when he answered. His voice seemed strangely cold, suspicious. ‘Hello?’
‘Listen to me, I haven’t much time. A terrible thing happened. Somebody was killed in my apartment.’
A pause. Then: ‘Where are you?’
‘Don’t worry about me and don’t get involved in this. I’m going to be all right. A I know named Sharky is taking
