When she gurgled, tried to clutch her throat, he shook his head, let her slide to the floor. “You’re useless to me. Absolutely useless.”
He pulled off his shirt, tossed it aside as he went to the kitchen to scrub his hands and arms.
He’d already carried most of what he needed to the car, though he intended to travel light. He changed his shirt, brushed a hand over his hair. Slipped on his sunshades.
Picking up the suitcase, he blew a kiss toward the door, toward Melinda and Darlie.
“Fun while it lasted,” he said, and strolled out without a backward glance toward the woman bleeding on the floor.
16
As Roarke drove, Eve worked the ’link, coordinated with, strategized, updated the team Ricchio put together.
“Four uniforms on scene, pulled a block back from target,” she muttered, while Roarke roared through the gap between a truck and a Mini with a stream of spit to spare. “He doesn’t know we have this location. Has to know she wouldn’t go back if we did—and they’ve spotted the stolen car just inside the apartment’s garage. So she’s there.
“We need to keep them back,” she said into the ’link. “Right now he has bait, a new start to his collection. If he sees cops, the bait become hostages. And he only needs one.”
“SWAT’s ten minutes out,” Ricchio told her. “We’re right ahead of them.”
“We’re under two. We need a way in. He’ll have security. He’s on guard now, wondering what we know. Or he’s already poofed.”
“We’ll ascertain with EDD on arrival.”
“Heat sensors won’t show them in the room he’s prepped for them. If they’re all in there—On scene now. I’ll get back to you.”
She leaped out before Roarke braked at the curb.
“Status.” She snapped it out, flashed her badge at the uniforms.
“No visible activity in the subject’s apartment from the exterior. We got the stolen car in the garage.”
“He’s got another vehicle. Dark blue Orion sedan.”
“We got that data, Lieutenant, and have no confirmation on it. There’s an underground level. We’d have to approach the building and go in to ascertain. Orders are to hold here.”
She nodded.
“I need to get in there.”
“I can certainly get us in,” Roarke said, but she shook her head.
“If he’s watching he’d make you in two seconds flat.”
“And not you?”
“That’s a problem.” She kept scanning, kept thinking. “Wait. Hey, you. Kid.”
Near the corner, the teenaged boy executed a smooth half-pipe on his airboard.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Christ, even boarders were polite here. “This is police business. See?” She held her badge up.
“I didn’t do anything.” He shoved his flop of hair out of his eyes. “I’m just—”
“I need to borrow your hat, your sunshades.” And God help her. “Your board.”
“Oh man, I just got the board.”
“You see that guy over there, with the cops? The one who looks rich?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“He’s going to give you a hundred for the loan. If you stay right where you are.”
“Well, yes, ma’am, but the board cost—”
“Two hundred, for a loan. If I’m not back in ten minutes, he’ll make it three. Now give me the goddamn stupid hat and shades. I need that shirt, too.”
His face went pink. “My shirt?”
“Yeah. And don’t say ‘yes, ma’am’ again.”
“No, ma’am.”
“What are you doing?” Roarke demanded as he joined them.
“Going boarding.” She stripped off her jacket, tossed it to him. Then pulled the oversized black shirt with its wild-haired music group on the front over her head. “I need to get in.”
“If you think you look like a teenaged boy,” he began, then reconsidered when she cocked the hat on her head, fixed the rainbow neon shades on her face. “Not that far off, actually. But you’ve got no business going in there.”
“Going in there is my business. He’s on two,” she added, giving the building a good study. “I’m not going above ground level. I can get down to the garage, verify his vehicle’s there—or that it’s not. We have to know, and may have to do what we can to evacuate civilians.”
“I’ll go in from the rear.”
“Roarke—”
“You want me to trust you to take the front, and go unrecognized. Do me the same courtesy.” He gave the bill of the cap a flick with his finger. “Keep your head down. And slouch.”
“Excuse me, sir, but the lady said you’d pay me two hundred for the loan.”
“Two . . .” Resigned, Roarke pulled out his wallet. “Do you know who owns that truck there?”
“Sure, that’s Ben Clipper’s truck.”
“If Ben comes looking for it, tell him it’s on loan. There’s two in it for him as well.”
Eve gave a glance back, signaled the uniforms. She wondered how the hell she was supposed to slouch on a goddamn airboard. Knees loose, she ordered herself, and for God’s sake don’t run into anything.
She kept her head down, as much to keep her eye where she feared she might plant it on the sidewalk as to block her face from any cams.
She didn’t risk any flourishes, but hopped off at the building’s entrance, and shouldered the board at an angle to shield her face.
She palmed her master, bopping her head and shoulders as she’d observed teenaged boys did for no good reason.
Inside she reached a hand under the shirt for her weapon, glanced up the stairs.
Nothing and no one moved.
“Single elevator,” she muttered into her com, tossed the sunshades onto the single chair beside the elevator. “Both it and stairs right of entrance. Elevator’s coming up. Stand by.”
She kept her weapon low, moved to the far side of the car, back to the wall.
A woman and two kids got out, making enough noise to raise the dead.
Eve stepped forward. “Please stop where you are.”
“Oh! You startled me.” The woman’s surprised laugh cut off as she spotted Eve’s weapon. In a finger snap she had both kids shoved behind her.
“I’m the police,” Eve said quickly. She held up her free hand, then dug under the shirt for her badge. “Do you know the residents of apartment two-oh-eight?”
“I’m not sure. I—”
“Big guy, good shape, late thirties. A lot of charm. Just moved in a few days ago. He’d be with a woman now and then, and she’d be in a lot. Blond, mid-fifties, attractive, a little flashy.”
“You must mean Tony, Tony Maxwell. He’s the nicest man. Is he all right? I just saw him a little while ago when he was leaving.”
“When?”
“Ah, maybe a half-hour ago. I had to go pick up the kids, and I saw him in the garage on the way out, stowing his suitcase. He said he had to go away on business for a couple days. What’s this about?”
