Dead to the Last Drop (41 page)

Hang in there. One more minute . . .

Back turned, Katerina spoke. “There’s not much to update you on, Michael. They’re still looking for your friend, Clare Cosi. The Metro police, the Secret Service, the FBI. She probably escaped with the gang who snatched the President’s daughter.”

He frowned. “You were right to tell me about her, Katerina. Your actions changed everything for me here in Washington.” He paused, dropped his voice. “Tonight, I want to show you how I really feel . . .”

Katerina faced him again, drinks in hand. “If I remember right, you’re a scotch man.”

She passed the glass, her touch lingering. She’d opened the silky robe. He hated to admit it, but the display of pink flesh was . . . well, diverting.

“To us,” she said, and together they drained their glasses.

“You’re probably right about Clare escaping.” He regarded his tumbler. “The last time I took off without telling her, she staked out my apartment and stalked me. But tonight, when I dropped off luggage at my place, there was no sign of her.”

“Forget that awful woman,” Katerina said, moving closer. “She’s a million miles away, while you and I . . . we’re right here, alone together—”

The banging on the door startled them both.

Quinn made a show of cursing. “That must be your building’s security. I told the night guard I’d have you phone down to make it clear I’m your guest and you’re okay. I forgot to mention it.”

“I’ll get rid of him . . .” Katerina poked his chest. “
You
stay
here
.”

Still holding the glass, Quinn held his breath, waiting for the fireworks to start. It didn’t take long.

O
ne Hundred Eleven

K
ATERINA was so shocked at the sight of
me
standing on her doorstep, hands on hips, ready to strangle her, she took two steps back.

My role tonight was the “jealous and angry girlfriend,” so I continued my pretense of glaring at the lady lawyer—until I caught sight of Mike standing in her living room, holding an empty glass.

In five short minutes with my man, Katerina managed to serve drinks and get half-naked in that obscenely gaping kimono?

Pretend I’m angry? Ha! No acting necessary!

“YOU WITCH!” I shrieked, lunging at her.

Katerina actually ran backward to get away from me. (Most impressive, I’d never seen
that
before.)

“Calm down,” Katerina said evenly. “We can talk this through.”

“Clare! What are you doing here?”

That was Mike, crying out in mock surprise. Then, in order to “flee from me,” he ran deeper into Katerina’s apartment—as per the plan.

Katerina didn’t notice Quinn’s retreat. She didn’t notice that I left her front door open, either. Her attention was focused on one thing only—the crazy-mad, insanely jealous, Italian American woman currently
in her face
!

To honor my heritage, I launched into a string of Italian invectives that would have scorched my beloved nonna’s ears, most of which I’d learned from my ex-husband, though I tossed in a few zingers I’d picked up from Tito.

Mother tongue exhausted, I switched to English.

“I knew you and Mike had some sicko thing going on. All those trips to
the West Coast. The late nights at work. It was all a ruse so he could sleep with his hussy boss! Well, not anymore! I’m back, and this ends tonight!”

Unexpectedly, Katerina lifted her phone and hit speed dial.

“Calling the cops?” I chuckled menacingly. “They won’t get here quick enough to save your bony butt-cakes!”

But they might get here soon enough to ruin our plan . . .

Katerina moved behind the couch. “Stay back,” she commanded, one hand waving me off, the other clutching a phone to her ear.

“I need help. Code Red. Now!” she cried.

Desk security
, I thought.
But he’s already clued in, and won’t butt in.

I rushed around the couch, and Katerina hightailed it behind her bar. She and I locked eyes across the polished top.

“The authorities are after you, Clare. Do you know what that means?”

“I know what
this
means.”

It was Quinn. He’d returned to the living room, displaying a jangling phone in his hand and a mirthless grin on his face.

“I found this in your bedroom.” The phone sounded again. “Hear that Bollywood ringtone, Katerina? Enjoy it, because it’s your swan song.”

She narrowed her eyes into slits. “I don’t know what you have—”

“Then I’ll tell you. I have the cloned phone of a State Department employee named Jeevan Varma. The man you murdered. You used the clone of the man’s phone to illegally surveil him.”

“Really?” Katerina smirked. “You have
that
cold, do you?”

“I do.”

“Well, I have to say, I don’t care, because I have
this
.” From behind the bar, she pulled up a gun and pointed the barrel directly at Mike’s chest.

I gasped at the sight of it, and she told me to shut the hell up. “And don’t move a muscle, you little bitch, or I’ll put a bullet in your head
after
I blow his heart out.”

Then she addressed Quinn again. “You
should
have had your gun on me, Michael, but then I always knew you were weak. And I assure you, I’m not. Now toss your weapon onto the couch.”

Quinn folded his arms.

“She’s a wanted woman,” Katerina pressed, unnerved by his confidence. “Clearly, you helped her, which makes you a criminal, too. I could kill you both where you stand, and let my position at the DOJ do the explaining.”

“That might work,” declared a new voice. “Or I could shoot
you
, Ms. Lacey.”

Danica Hatch strode through the open apartment door. She had a gun, too, and aimed it directly at the creature.

The distraction gave Quinn time to draw. Now it was two on one.

With a disgusted sigh, Katerina set the Glock onto the bar. I snatched it and stepped back. Unbelievably, the woman was still smirking.

“Sit down,” Quinn barked. “I want you to see this.”

Katerina held Mike’s gaze as she slowly wrapped the open kimono around her slender form, belted it, and sank down onto the couch.

“I heard you like electronic devices,” Danica said. “Check this one out.”

Black-and-white images passed across the policewoman’s smartphone screen. Danica knew exactly where to freeze the picture.

“That’s you, Ms. Lacey, entering Tillie’s gastropub minutes after Jeevan Varma. A few hours later, Mr. Varma was in a coma. A day later the man was dead. You killed him.”

Katerina’s smirking gaze was still unbearably superior, almost triumphant.

She’s unfazed. Why?

“Mr. Varma had something you wanted,” Danica pressed. “Information that could hurt the President you work for. So you lulled him into thinking you were going to pay him for it, but you didn’t pay for it. You murdered him instead.”

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Katerina replied, unbowed. “I admit I met Varma that night. He wanted to meet at the Village Blend, but I knew I would be recognized there, so he set the meeting around the corner instead, at Tillie’s.”

Quinn loomed over her. “Why the meet?”

“I was there to pay the man off. Look, a few years ago, when President Parker was a senator, planning to run for the big job, his people hired me to dig up incriminating evidence of potential scandals. They wanted to know about any dirt in Parker’s past that the press—or his political opponents—could use against him. They did not want to know how I did my digging, they just wanted results, and any messes cleaned up. So when I found those incriminating e-mails, I paid Varma to erase them from the government servers. But the jerk kept copies, and with Parker up for reelection this year, he used those copies to blackmail me.”

She shrugged. “So I paid him. I handed him the blackmail money that
night. Two hundred thousand, cash. But Varma never delivered the goods. He handed me a flash drive with a document promising he would dead drop the material. Then
he
ended up dead.”

Katerina met Quinn’s stare. “But I
did not
kill him, and you have no evidence that I did.”

The smug smirk never left the woman’s face, and I finally realized why: “You believe the President is going to protect you.”

Katerina’s nonchalant shrug told me I was right. It was Danica who finally shook her up.

“We’re not here to arrest you for Mr. Varma.”

Katerina blinked. “Excuse me?”

“With the help of a dedicated whistle-blower”—Danica tipped her head toward Quinn—“we have evidence that you’ve engaged in judicial misconduct, that you’ve conducted unlawful searches and seizures, that you have used your position to selectively prosecute the President’s political rivals, not only in your current position at Justice, but during your time as an ADA
in Baltimore
.”

“Baltimore?”

Quinn stepped closer. “I told you I found Mr. Varma’s phone. Guess I should have mentioned it was one among dozens of cloned phones and other devices I found hidden in your bedroom, devices that I’m going to connect to the illegally obtained intel you gave me to run stings against the President’s political opponents, some of whom reside in Maryland.”

For the first time, Katerina looked upset.

“Are you crazy?” she cried. “If you do this, you’ll blow apart every case we prosecuted!”

“Illegally prosecuted. For political purposes.”

Mouth gaping, she stared at Quinn, unable to believe anyone would burn his Washington career ladder in such a righteous bonfire.

But Quinn was doing exactly that—and dousing it with gasoline.

Danica smiled sweetly. “As much as I’d like to slap the cuffs on you myself, you’re being arrested on federal charges, and being brought to a Maryland U.S. attorney working with my Baltimore DA, and that requires a federal officer.” She tipped her head to Quinn once more. “Federal jurisdiction. Federal warrant. But we’re booking you in Baltimore, honey, where your friends are few; and once you’re there, we’re not letting you go.”

With pure rage, Katerina glared at Danica, who had trouble containing
her glee. With a spring in her step, Danny went to the front closet to find her prisoner a coat.

“I’ll beat this. Just watch me,” Katerina bit out as Quinn pulled her up.

“The most you can hope for is a presidential pardon,” he said. “But I promise you one thing, you will
never
wield the power of the law again. And that’s good enough for me.”

“You’re a fool, Michael,” she hissed, tugging on the trench that Danny tossed her. “We could have gone far, you and I. After this, no one at Justice will trust you again. Your Washington career is over.”

“Fine with me,” he said, clicking the cuffs on her. “Because after working for you, Katerina, I cannot wait to get back to policing New York.”

Then Quinn advised his boss of her rights, including (thank goodness) the right to remain
silent
.

O
ne Hundred Twelve

“T
HIS is the best way, Clare. Forty minutes on the highways, and we’re in Baltimore. Once Katerina is in federal custody, you, me, and Danica will go back and present our evidence to the Metro DC police. With that
and
Abby and Stan as your witnesses to these events, any charges pending against you will be dropped. I’m sure of it.”

“I just wish we were driving
together
.”

It was the dead of night now, and chilly out here in the Maryland suburbs.

“Better I ride shotgun,” he replied. “It’s too much to expect Danica to drive and watch the prisoner, too. And with all the electronic paperwork flying back and forth across county lines, I might have to flash my warrant and my ID if a trooper or local cop pulls us over. It’s the law.”

Quinn glanced at the little silver SUV in the high-rise parking lot. Katerina was in the back, in handcuffs, her features steely in a frame of blunt-cut hair.

“Frankly, I doubt you want to spend forty minutes in the same vehicle with Katerina, anyway.”

“Okay. You convinced me.”

“Make a right out of the parking lot. After a mile or so through town, you’ll see the sign for the interstate. The turn comes at a stoplight, then a few lonely miles to the on-ramp. Once we’re on the highway, just follow the signs to Baltimore.”

I couldn’t shake a sense of unease as I climbed into the Village Blend van. It felt like an itch in my mind that I couldn’t scratch.

Did I miss something?

When I started the engine, the radio came on, and I was distracted for a minute by the announcer’s excited tone.

“. . . and mere hours after she was declared missing, a solo member of Abigail Parker’s Secret Service detail has located the First Daughter safe and sound, just minutes from her dorm room at American University . . .”

Sharon got my message. Way to go, Cage, now you’re a hero. But then, you always were . . .

My happy excitement turned to concern as I realized how fast Danica had driven away. I pulled the van out of the lot and headed in the same direction.

The road I was on led out of town. Traffic was light, which is why I noticed the dark sedan. It passed Danica’s silver SUV and made a slow U-turn to follow.

This was the direction to the interstate, so having other cars move this way wasn’t all that suspicious. But I fumbled for my phone anyway. Quinn answered on the first ring.

“There’s a car behind you. Do you see it?”

“Yes . . . and?”

“And back at Katerina’s apartment, before you and Danica got the drop on her, she phoned someone, asking for help. I thought she was calling the guard at the front desk . . . but what if she wasn’t?”

“Katerina has an accomplice, Clare. I have no doubt. Someone had to deal with the criminal element to steal phones and clone them. But Katerina is in custody. Only a good lawyer can help her now.”

“Well, that car behind you has been following for half a mile.”