“I repeat-do you really need to ask?”
This time Casey smiled. “Never. Not when it comes to you.”
“The psychiatrist’s name is Stanley Sherman. His office is in a three-story building in White Plains, not far from the courthouse where Hope presides. As soon as you and I hang up, I’ll be hitting up Marc. He and Hero blew out of here a little while ago. He was a man on a mission.”
“And that mission, I take it, is about to change?”
“Damn straight.” Ryan was already tinkering with something in the background. Casey could hear the sounds of metal being manipulated. That meant one of Ryan’s toys. And she knew exactly which one.
“The little critter?” she asked.
“Yup. Gecko is about to make his debut performance.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Marc met Ryan inside his van at the designated spot half a block away from Dr. Sherman’s building.
“Nice work with Diaz,” Ryan commented after Marc had hopped in. “You didn’t trust him from the beginning.”
A shrug. “All we found out was that he’d left Casey the note and that he saw Krissy’s abductor come and go from the Willises’ house. Not much at this point. And it pales next to what you dug up.” Marc glanced over his shoulder at the back of the van to see what supplies Ryan had brought with him today. There was a packed duffel bag, along with Ryan’s ever-present laptop. “So how are we doing this?”
“I did a quick tour of the building while you were filling the FBI in on Diaz’s story. Sherman’s office is on the second floor. His receptionist is out today. So we’ve got that on our side. But Sherman’s in with a patient. We’ll have to wait for him to go to lunch.”
Marc grunted. “At which point he’ll lock the office door behind him.”
“You’ll take care of that part,” Ryan continued, reaching behind him for the duffel bag. He pulled out some tools, which Marc pocketed, followed by a maintenance uniform, which he passed over to Marc. “Time to wear service coveralls again. You should be used to it by now-and they bring out your eyes. Now go in the back and put this on,” he instructed. “I’ll fill you in on the rest as you change.”
“Done.” Marc climbed into the rear section of the van and began yanking the uniform on over his clothes. “Why do I know this is going to involve your little critter robot?”
“Because it is.” Ryan didn’t miss a beat. “I’ve been dying to try him out. Now’s my chance. There’s a maintenance closet in the basement,” he informed Marc. “That’s where I found your uniform. Grab one of those carts so you can look authentic. Then we’ll time this until you can do your thing with the lock. Once you’re inside Sherman’s office, I’ll tell you what to do. More specifically, Gecko will.”
Marc’s fingers paused on a shirt button. “Explain.”
“When I stole your uniform, I went up to the roof,” Ryan said calmly. “I placed my little guy inside the air- conditioning ductwork. I’ll steer him down to where we want him, inside a duct in Sherman’s office. There are built- in cameras inside Gecko that’ll scan the place, and a microphone that can communicate with you. So Gecko becomes your robo-lookout. And it’s all connected to my trusty laptop.” Ryan reached back and patted the computer. “Together you and I will find the file on Linda Turner. You’ll photocopy what we need, put everything back the way you found it, and get out of there. I’ll steer Gecko back to safety. And we’ll hope that there’s something in the file that’ll lead us to our suspect.”
“Got it.” There wasn’t a shred of surprise in Marc’s response. He knew Ryan, knew the way his brilliant mind worked. He respected the hell out of him. And, tactical and physical skills combined, they worked really well together. “Do I need an earbud?”
“While you’re waiting for my ‘all clear’ signal, yes. But, once you’re inside the office, we can talk to each other through Gecko’s mike. The earbuds alone wouldn’t give me a visual. Besides, like I said, mostly I’m dying to try the little guy out. This is a cool way to do a trial run.”
“Ready.” Marc finished donning his uniform, adjusted his earbud and peered out the window. “You first, or me?”
“You. I can position Gecko in ten minutes.”
“Then I’m gone.”
Marc sauntered down to the maintenance closet and found a cart, which he promptly filled with mops, brooms, rags and various chemical cleaners. Then he made his way up the stairwell, avoiding the elevators so he wouldn’t run into anyone who asked questions. He carried the cart ahead of him, until he’d reached the second floor. He passed a couple of women walking down to the main corridor, laughing and heading out for a coffee break. He kept his head low and his attention on his cart, although he couldn’t help but chuckle silently at the man-bashing conversation. His presence didn’t slow them down a bit. To them he was invisible, so they continued their chatter. Charlie-the clueless boyfriend whose head was on the chopping block-was about to be dumped. Evidently, he was an inconsiderate bastard, and lousy in bed to boot.
It was this kind of crap that made Marc glad he wasn’t the heavy-relationship type.
The second-floor staircase was deserted, and Marc emerged without a hitch. The hall was a different story. There were three lawyers standing outside their offices, discussing a litigation case. Marc moved slowly past them, noting the numbers on the doors. Good. Sherman’s office was around the bend. As long as the attorneys stayed where they were and Marc didn’t run into anyone else, he’d be able to do his job without a problem.
Almost home free.
“He just left for lunch.”
Marc heard Ryan’s voice in his ear as he rounded the corner and nearly crashed into Dr. Sherman.
“No shit,” Marc muttered under his breath. Aloud, he murmured a heavily accented, “Excuse me,” keeping his head low. Ryan almost lost it and cracked up laughing, as he heard Sherman call Marc a clumsy idiot, before tromping off.
Marc spied Sherman’s office, his name on the door in big letters. Reflexively, he gave a quick scan of the hall. Empty.
Satisfied, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves. Then, he extracted his flathead screwdriver and file, carefully inserting them in the lock and feeling his way, listening until he heard the telltale click. He pushed open the door and tucked away his tools. Dragging the maintenance cart in behind him, he yanked the door shut, walking through the reception area and into the main office behind it.
“What took you so long?” Ryan inquired through the air duct.
Marc arched a brow. “Nice warning. Timely, too. I almost flattened the shrink. What happened to not drawing attention to myself?”
“Sorry. Let’s get to it. Sherman takes short lunch breaks. That gives us maybe thirty minutes tops.” Ryan fell silent for a moment. “I think I see a file room in the back.”
“Yup, you do. And fortunately there’s no lock on the door.” Marc picked up the pace, striding across the floor and shoving open the door. “Are you in here?” he asked Ryan.
“Sure am. There’s an air-conditioning vent to your left. Gecko followed you in.” A low whistle. “I knew Sherman was a pack rat, but this lends new meaning to the phrase. There are file cabinets everywhere.”
“Lucky me.” One by one, Marc scanned the labels on the cabinets, which listed the files inside by date. “These only go back twenty-five years. Shit. Where are the rest?” He scrutinized the room.
There were loose stacks of files in the far corner.
“Let me try those,” he said to Ryan, pointing.
“Good idea.” Ryan waited while Marc squatted down and began rummaging through the files. He was careful to keep them in the same order he’d found them.
“These are the oldies but goodies,” Marc muttered, going back thirty, then thirty-plus years. “Bingo.” He stopped when he saw the name:
“Great. The copying machine’s in the reception area. I’m moving Gecko to the main corridor outside the office. He’ll watch the door and the hallway.”
