Lying Eyes (15 page)

Lifting the empty-feeling gym bag, Allison said, "Hang on a minute. I'll be right back," then hurried into her room and examined the contents of the bag.

These hefty jogging shoes should add sufficient weight to the bag.

She stuffed the shoes inside and zipped it.

As she strode back through the connecting door her head filled with ideas she could use in the coming hours to drive her uptight shadow right out of his unsuspecting mind.

*****

C
arlo rode on the elevator with her and disappeared about the time Allison tried to load a breakfast tray while juggling her tote bag and the gym bag.

She couldn't, she realized.

"Here, let me help," Stonewall offered. "Looks like you could use a hand."

"I'd welcome an extra pair of hands," she whispered. "Carlo insisted I never put this bag down. Would you mind holding my tray while I spoon some melon onto my plate?"

"That's what I'm here for. How is your day going so far?"

Allison sighed. "It's too quiet. I hope something happens soon and brings an end to all this waiting."

"How about some eggs and sausage?"

"Yes, and one of those blueberry muffins, please."

He gave her generous helpings of each.

"Thank you. I see a vacant table. Would you mind putting my tray on it while I pour my coffee?"

"Consider it done. Have a great day."

Another great day of waiting?

I sincerely hope not.

She carried her steaming coffee to the table with her tray and took a seat.

At a distant table a strolling musician was stroking the strings of a violin with loving care, reminding Allison of the way Carlo had stroked her spinal column numerous times the previous night.

How soon will he be able to do it again?

She cut a sausage link in two and ate a bite. Sausage was one of her favorite foods. Carlo's, too.

She smiled to herself as she watched a female undercover security officer fill a coffee cup and head for her table.

"Good morning. Mind if I join you?" the attractive woman asked.

"Please do, Sal. I hate eating alone. You're not eating?"

"I ate hours ago. I'm just taking a break. How's the sausage?"

"To die for—Oops," Allison said. "I've been told I have to stop saying that."

Her companion laughed. "By Detective Demetri, I imagine."

"Good guess."

"I heard you did a commendable job of dissecting your primary watchdog in your workshop on alpha males. Good work."

She and Sal exchanged hi-fives.

"Carlo's beginning to annoy me."

"
I heard that
,"
Carlo said in her ear.

"What's the detective done now?" Sal asked, askance.

"He's being his usual uptight self, I suppose, but I already have a mother. I certainly don't need two."

Sal laughed. "He's giving you a hard time, isn't he?"

"Yes. I know I shouldn't resent it, but I do."

Sal thoughtfully sipped the rest of her coffee, and set the cup aside. "Tell your detective he can mother me any time he feels the urge."

"Sorry, Sal, you'll have to take a number."

"Good talking to you, Miss Marble. Take care."

Sal rose and strode away while Allison finished her muffin.

As she bused her tray she glanced around for a conspicuous place to settle next and noticed an unoccupied sofa near a potted palm.

Feeling friendly eyes upon her, she prowled the lobby for a few minutes, swaying her hips and grinning to herself.

Unless I miss my guess, these new jeans have Carlo sweating beneath his stiff collar.

Deciding she may as well take a seat and give him a chance to cool off, Allison headed for the unoccupied sofa.

"Mind if I join you?"

Allison glanced into Detective Hanson's eyes and smiled back at him. "I was hoping you would. Are you as tired of the lack of action as I am?"

His expression sobered. "Lack of action is not always a bad thing."

"It will be if this stakeout doesn't come to an end soon. I have a train to catch."

He shrugged noncommittally. "From a police standpoint, you're probably right. On the other hand, you'll be out of here, and safe at last."

"Not you, too."

"Not me, what?" Hanson asked, his expression troubled.

"Harping on my safety. Frankly I'm tired of all this concern. Do you really believe some bad guy is running around this hotel carrying a gun with my name engraved on his bullets?"

He cleared his throat. "If I didn't believe it, I wouldn't have volunteered for this stakeout."

"You
volunteered?"

He shrugged. "The Captain gave a select group of officers the chance to volunteer for this assignment. He wanted a team willing to stay alert all weekend."

"I'm glad you're here. You're like the voice of reason shouting in the wilderness. Thank Heaven Carlo listens to you," she said, patting his arm. "It's a drag, isn't it? I've never seen him
this
uptight."

"I heard that," Carlo said in her ear.

"Bug off, Carlo. We're having a private conversation."

Hanson chuckled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to monopolize your time."

"No, you haven't. You aren't. Carlo is just being Carlo. What do
you
see when you gaze into his eyes?"

"I try not to," he said, and added, "When I do, I see a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I don't know how he bears all the stress."

"What does he do for fun?"

"
Fun?
I don't think he knows the word. Eating pizza at an NBA playoff game is the closest he ever comes to having fun."

"Time for Hanson to move on," Carlo said in her ear.

Allison said through gritted teeth, "See. Even when he's not around, he's directing my life."

Hanson laughed as he stood. "Better him than the perp."

"True. Thanks for letting me vent for a few minutes. See you around."

Allison opened the Karen Robards' novel, but hadn't read more than one page when Susan slumped beside her on the sofa and asked, "How was your breakfast?"

"Uneventful, darn it. I'd like to get this show on the road."

"You and me both. Any idea how long I'm supposed to sit here?"

"No, but I don't intend to stay here much longer. I need to move around and stretch. Maybe take a potty break."

"I'll let Carlo know."

After mumbling something unintelligible into her radio, Susan stood. "Let's go find Marsha. She's heading in this direction."

Allison grabbed the gym bag at her feet and stood, slowly straightening her back in hopes Carlo was watching, before she stepped away from the sofa and joined Susan's search.

"Carlo says knock it off. What have you done now that has him so edgy?"

Allison laughed.

"Come clean."

Immensely pleased with herself, Allison grinned as she glanced around, but couldn't spot Carlo. "I've spent the last hour putting on a sensual show guaranteed to drive the detective to distraction."

"You didn't."

"Sure I did. I had nothing better to do." Allison started walking again and suddenly stopped. "Whoa."

"What's wrong?"

"I could swear I saw Sergeant Knox get in the elevator with that stocky man again."

"What stocky man?" Carlo growled in her ear.

"The same one he was arguing with yesterday. Do you think it's important?"

"Unlikely, but you should have mentioned this sooner. What else have you forgotten to relay?"

"Oh, for crying out loud, Carlo. Get over yourself." Allison turned to her companions. "Carlo can—Oh, never mind. Let's get a move on. I need to—"

"Right. Here's Marsha."

"Stay alert, team," Susan said into her radio. "Norcross, Daniels, and Marble are heading for the ladies’ room."

She and Marsha turned down the west hall. Susan brought up the rear. "Carlo says don't let go of the gym bag."

"How am I supposed to—? Forget it. He's the most nervous Nelly I've ever met."

Susan followed them into the ladies’ room.

"I knew it," Marsha said. "You and Carlo did the deed?"

"What deed?"

"You crossed the police tape. Last night? Or this morning?"

Allison's cheeks flushed. "Right on both counts. How did you know?"

"He didn't bite my head off for not waking when the perp came to your door. How was it?"

Susan poked Marsha in the ribs. "It was Carlo. How do you think it was? Nice girls don't tell."

Marsha gave Allison a tight hug. "You lucky dog."

As she stepped out of the ladies’ room, Allison caught a glimpse of Carlo for the first time in an hour. He was on the phone, his expression grim.

This is definitely wearing on his nerves.

––––––––

"D
etective Demetri, you're needed in the Security Office," a gruff voice on his cell phone said.

"Who is this?"

Damn. The line went dead.

*****

P
reparing to leave her alone, Susan gave Allison a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Allison settled back against the sofa cushions in the lobby, vowing to stop teasing the detective with her sensual gymnastics.

"Carlo was called to Security. Hanson is coming to relieve me. Hang in there."

As Susan strolled off Allison dropped the gym bag to the floor where it wouldn't cause anyone to stumble, and leaned back again.

Hanson stood at the far end of the hall talking to someone she couldn't see. Bored, Allison reached in her purse for her nail file.

Something cold and hard poked her in the ribs, making her heart race. Carlo?

A stranger sank onto the seat beside her.

I doubt Carlo expects his undercover agents to sit this close.

Hotel Security?

Prepared to tell the officer to move over, she turned to him.

A pair of dark beady eyes set in a scowling, tanned face squinted back at her.

Uh oh. The same man who grabbed me at the ice machine.

"Do exactly as I say," the man murmured, glaring at her. "Understand? And don't even think about touching that radio."

She nodded.

Where are my bodyguards?

Carlo hadn't mentioned this possibility.

What would he want me to do?

She caught Hanson's eye.

Stay calm,
he motioned.

"No. Do
not
turn around."

The hard tip of his gun poked Allison again.

She nodded.

"See those stairs leading to the parking garage? Grab the money, stand, and slowly walk to those stairs without attracting attention. I have a .45 rammed in your side and I intend to keep it there. Don't make me use it. Understood?"

"Yes," she murmured, having no difficulty sounding frightened.

Much as she'd like to, Allison decided not to do anything to attract attention. If she did, Carlo or one of his team could get shot.

"Get a move on."

Grabbing the bag, she stood and cautiously threaded her way through the throng of hotel guests blocking their way.

"Good girl," the perp muttered shakily. "I may let you live."

Allison aimed for the staircase and paused.

"Move," the perp almost shouted.

He sounded desperate
.

Is that good?

Allison's legs shook uncontrollably and she switched the gym bag to her left hand so she could slide her right hand along the stair rail to keep from falling.

Carefully placing her foot on the step, she started down the first flight of stairs.

As they neared the landing a man's voice shouted, "Police. Stop. Right. There."

Carlo.
Thank God.

The perp whirled and fired three quick shots, making Allison's ears ring.

Before she thought to scream, he reached for her again.

She ducked out of his reach as Carlo aimed and fired at the off-balanced perp.

The bullet whizzed past them.

Carlo crumpled to the floor.

Allison screamed.

Startled, the perp tottered on the step below her.

Gripping both handles of the gym bag she swung it in a wide arc, smacking the perp's forehead with a satisfying thump.

Shrieking, he tumbled head first down the next flight of stairs.

Screaming, "Carlo," Allison fled back up the stairs.

Her heart raced.

Carlo isn't moving.

Then she noticed the growing stain on his pants leg.

Hanson and a security guard charged down the stairs. Susan and Marsha kneeled at Carlo's side.

"Are you hurt, Allison?" Hanson asked as he raced by, his gun leveled on the perp.

"No, but Carlo is," she shouted, frantic to reach him.

"An ambulance is on the way," Susan assured her, checking Carlo's pulse as Marsha pressed one palm hard against a wound in his right thigh, the other firmly against the growing stain below his other knee.

Susan unbuttoned his shirt and loosened his belt.

"Allison, I need you to apply pressure to the exit wound in Carlo's thigh," Marsha ordered.

Allison dropped the gym bag and knelt beside her.

Forget about the growing pool of Carlo's blood.

"Here," Marsha said, scooting out of her way. "Press the palm of your hand firmly against this other wound in Carlo's thigh and keep pressure on it until the medics arrive."

"Hey, Demetri," Hanson called, yanking the handcuffed perp to his feet. "Aren't you looking for a suspect with a tattoo of a knife on his right hand? We just bagged one."

"Good job, Detective," Allison said, smiling at Carlo in spite of her fear.

"Don't congratulate me. You and Hanson caught him," Carlo muttered as his eyes began to roll back in his head. "I failed again."

"Stay with us, Carlo," Alison begged, caressing his ghostly cheek with her free hand. "Failed what?"

"Failed... to keep you safe."

*****

W
e'll take over," an Emergency Medical Technician said, tapping Allison on the shoulder. "What happened?"

"Multiple gunshot wounds in the legs. Exit wound in the right thigh. Pulse faint," Susan said, moving out of his way.

A second EMT arrived and sank to his knees beside Marsha. He dropped the equipment bags he'd carried in and began ripping the packaging off sterile bandages and handing them to the first EMT.