Lying Eyes (2 page)

"But he's already seen me."

Giving her a hard stare, Carlo yanked out his phone. "I'm calling for backup."

"Why can't you and I handle this?"

"I need help."

Carlo turned his back on her and called Central.

With any luck, Captain Samson will take this woman off my hands
.
Maybe even put her in a safe house until this mess is resolved.

The desk sergeant answered the first ring. Carlo put the call on speaker.

"Bailey? It's Demetri. Put me through to the Captain."

"Sure thing. Hold on."

When the Captain answered, Carlo went right to the point.

"This is Demetri. I've run up against a situation at the Caprice Hotel with the makings of a major brouhaha. I need your advice."

"What kind of situation? And isn't this your weekend off?"

"It is supposed to be, but if you agree, I'm volunteering to go back on duty until this situation is resolved."

"Agree to what?" the Captain cautiously asked.

"One of the female conference attendees—an investigative reporter with a San Diego television station—is not guilty of any crime, but she is in a jam."

"I'm listening. What kind of jam?"

"I suspect a drug dealer swapped his gym bag for hers at Union Station, leaving her stuck with a bag full of money that doesn't belong to her. A hundred-thousand-dollars in hundred-dollar bills unless I miss my guess."

The Captain whistled. "Where is she now?"

"Standing beside me in her hotel room. We met at the taxi stand at the train station and shared a ride to the Caprice Hotel."

"Go on."

"She called me as soon as she discovered the bags had been switched."

"Switched where?"

"At the crowded taxi stand, I think."

"So your tip about drugs and money changing hands at the Union Station was a good one?"

"I'm afraid so," Carlo said.

"Where is the money now?"

"It's staring us in the face."

The Captain sighed. "What do you need me to do?"

"Take the money off our hands."

"Understood," the Captain said, and cleared his throat.

"After that, I hope to catch the perp trying to break into Miss Marble's room. There are about two thousand authors expected for this conference. Public safety is a big concern, but I'm hoping we can lure the runner out into the open without risking anyone getting hurt. If we get lucky and catch the perp, we might even convince him to give us the name of the drug lord he works for."

"Sounds reasonable, but let's take care of the money first. What do you have in mind?"

Carlo inhaled a ragged breath. "A ruse. Can you send over two armed, female officers dressed in street clothes? Have the officers conceal a large evidence bag in the bottom of a shopping bag full of books and no one will pay any attention to them."

"Where am I going to get a bag of books?"

"There's a used book store around the corner from Central. Send someone to buy about three dozen new-looking paperback mysteries. Everyone I saw in the lobby when I checked in was carrying an armload of books."

"I'll send Amy out for books as soon as I hang up."

"Good. Encourage the officers who bring the books to blend in with the casually dressed writers floating around the lobby and come to room 510."

"And...?"

"I'll put the evidence in the shopping bag, sign off on the evidence exchange, and hide it beneath the books. The undercover officers can waltz right out of the Caprice with the shopping bag of books and no one pay any attention to them."

"This scheme might work," the Captain said thoughtfully.

"You don't think I'm whistling in the wind?"

"No. What about the reporter? How do you plan to smuggle her out?"

"That's my other problem. She objects to missing this conference. I told her I doubted you'd go for it, but if you agree... She has this foolish notion she can help catch the perp."

After an extended silence the Captain said, "It's just crazy enough it could succeed.
"

Smiling victoriously, Miss Marble wandered away.

"You're seriously considering letting her—"

Scratching his head, Carlo glanced her way. Now contentedly filing her nails, she was yet to accept the danger she faced
.

"We'd need to have an undercover cop and one from hotel security stationed on this floor to keep an eye on Miss Marble's room at all times and two more in the lobby who follow her every move when we leave the room—"

The Captain cleared his throat. "If I agree to this cockamamie scheme I expect you and at least one undercover female officer from Central to be at the victim's side wherever she goes or this plan is a no-go."

"But she—"

"No buts, Detective. We don't dare put an innocent visitor to this city at risk, or for that matter, the other hotel guests and staff. Understood?"

Carlo sighed. "Understood."

"Something bothering you, Detective?"

"Yes, Sir. I don't relish putting Miss Marble further at risk. I was hoping you would come up with a better plan."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Carlo. I can tell you've put a lot of thought into this and you're already on the scene, so I'm putting you in charge. Anything else I can help you with?"

Oops. I don't want to be the reason the Captain loses his cool.

"One more thing," Carlo said. "Start someone searching for a gym bag like the one I'll be tagging as evidence."

"I'll put an officer I'm sure I can trust on it as soon as the bag arrives.

"A uniformed policeman is the best deterrent to total mayhem I can think of. As we discussed when you asked to be off this weekend, your appearance at the conference will be good public relations for the Department. Oh, another thing, if you aren't already in uniform, get into one now and stay in uniform until this mess is resolved."

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Where is Miss Marble now?"

"Seated at her desk, giving herself a manicure." She glared at him.

Shrugging, Carlo took his cell off speaker.

"Good. Keep a close watch on her and ask her to order party trays and drinks for later. Charge everything to your room. Say it's for a pre-conference cocktail party she'll be hosting tonight at six. I'll be there, too. Extend a personal invitation to the head of hotel security. We'll need the hotel's cooperation if this plan is to succeed, and at the party we can finalize the plan with everyone involved."

"Right."

"Oh, and, Carlo, let's keep all mention of the money under wraps. I see no need to get the DEA involved until we know the source of the money. And it wouldn't do for word to get out at Central that we're holding a large amount of cash in the evidence room. That could prove to be too great a temptation to anyone in a financial pinch. Actually, let's keep all the details of this entire police action quiet. I certainly don't want the press involved."

"Agreed."

"And remember. Neither of you is to leave that room until I put my stamp of approval on this unprecedented scheme of yours. Got it?"

"Yes, Sir," Carlo said and disconnected the call.

Allison grinned at him. "I expected you to salute."

"I'm in law enforcement, not in the Army," he said, his jaw tight.

"Do I get to stay?"

"Only if you do as I say."

She huffed again. "What if I think of a better plan?"

"Don't even try."

"But I—"

"No. Shush. I need to think, not be bombarded with a string of questions. Hold your complaints for the Captain. He's coming to the cocktail party."

"I don't know anything about a party.
Wait a minute
. We haven't even registered for the conference yet. How did the Captain find out about a party before we did?"

"Slow down, Miss Marble. And please, don't take off on another tangent without giving me time to explain."

When she huffed a third time, he hid a grin. "You're throwing the private party right here in this room at six sharp, courtesy of LAPD's Central Division. Only the undercover police officers and hotel security involved in this sting will be invited."

"I am? What do I get to do?"

"Order the food, smile prettily when your guests arrive, and act gracious, like any good hostess would."

She preened for a moment. "I can do that, but I meant later. How do we lure the owner of the money out in the open?"

"The Captain hasn't approved your part of the plan yet. Oh, one other thing. He insists we keep this entire operation under wraps. That means no phone calls home, no chatter about this on all those social networks I'm certain you frequent, and don't write a word about this case until it's solved. I'm sure you're dying to tell everyone you know about the money and your lost makeup, but the Captain says 'Not a word to the press.' Understand?"

"Sure. I can wait, but bright and early Monday morning the wraps are coming off. Is the Captain coming to my party so I can find out how to lure out the perp?"

"The Captain has to put his stamp of approval on any plan. He hasn't yet."

"But he
will
?"

"No. He
may.
"

"Good. I can't wait to report to my viewers that on my weekend off I took part in a successful undercover sting."

Carlo scowled.

*****

A
llison grinned, delighted at the detective's obvious aggravation. She figured he was far too accustomed to having his way, and she was just stubborn enough to keep him from always getting it. "Are you having second thoughts, Detective?"

"Not about my plan. About you."

"Me?"

She sat straighter, causing her long hair to dance around her shoulders. When the detective's hungry gaze followed its path she swallowed a grin. "I can't wait to—"

"That's just it, woman. You're too damn anxious to lay your life on the line."

When she remained silent he added, "What will it take to make you accept the danger you'll be in the moment you step out of this room?"

"You'll be right beside me when I do, won't you?"

"Yes... but I can't assure your safety without help."

"Sure you can. From here I can see a stun gun, a canister of mace, and a holstered service revolver strapped to your waist. I'll bet you're packing a bunch of
hidden
weapons, too."

Carlo sighed. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to draw a .45 caliber Glock, take aim, and fire it?"

She batted her eyes at him. "No, but I'm sure you're about to tell me."

"Miss Marble—"

"Go ahead, Detective. Impress me with your vast knowledge and skill."

His growl became more pronounced as he paced the length of the room and back. He stopped right in front of her, waggled his finger in her face again, and shook his head.

"You seem like an intelligent woman. Use your brain. In the time it would take for you to step into the hall, a desperate perp could put a bullet between your pretty eyes."

If he was trying to frighten her, it wasn't working.

"You're going to stop him, aren't you? I can write my scoop and you'll be off the hook as far as protecting me is concerned. Maybe I'll become a true-crime writer since I'll be right in the heat of things."

He growled again, and plowed his fingers through his curly hair.

Her smug grin caused the detective to glare at her, but she decided to ask him the question uppermost in her mind anyway. "Do you honestly believe the perp will shoot me before he gets his money back?"

"He's bound to if you aggravate
him
as much as you aggravate me."

"Temper, temper, Detective."

He inhaled deeply and slowly let out the breath. "You know, you may be right. Until the perp finds out where the money is, he needs you alive. Still, I don't intend to let you do something stupid to test your theory."

"Once those officers come and take the money we should be able to leave my room without worrying about my safety. Right? The perp will be busy trying to break into this room. He'll be convinced the money is still here."

Grinning, she waited for him to agree.

He did, reluctantly.

"And we'll be free to roam the halls."

She tried to hi-five Carlo, but he dodged her uplifted hand.

"The perp still might lie in wait in the Conference Center for his chance to get you alone and drag you back here to retrieve his stash."

A possibility she hadn't given much thought.

Allison's heart painfully wrenched, and eased with her next thought. "He won't succeed, not with you around."

Carlo narrowed his eyes at her as he smacked his fist against the wall.

She jumped.

"
Listen to reason, woman
. You will be a sitting duck every minute until this crook is caught. I'm responsible for your safety. If I have to hog-tie you to keep you safe, I will. You are
not
to go off on your own or do anything else equally foolhardy. Not on
my
watch."

She frowned. "You sound like you're planning to lock me in this room and throw away the key."

"I'd like to." He made a gallant effort to regain his composure. "You asked for my help. Remember?"

"Yes."

"So. Let. Me. Help. Please," he added, plowing his long fingers through his thick curly hair.

The detective's cell phone rang. He grabbed it. "Demetri."

His eyes narrowed at her as he listened intently.

"I'm on my way." Pocketing his phone, he said, "The Conference Chairman needs to see me. I have to go. Throw the security lock behind me and stay right here until I get back."

He hurried out.

She threw the lock, called hotel catering, and ordered hot canapés, four trays of sandwich wraps, and drinks for the party and gleefully charged the cost to the detective's room.

Pleased with herself, she strode to the dresser and opened a shallow drawer, planning to put away her cosmetics.

Darn! I don't have any makeup to unpack.

Slamming the drawer shut, she opened a deeper drawer. She tried to slam it, too, but her index finger got in the way. She slammed the drawer on it.