Promises in Death (17 page)
Authors: J. D. Robb
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Detective and mystery stories, #Mystery Fiction, #New York, #New York (State), #Police, #Suspense, #Police Procedural, #Suspense Fiction, #Crimes against, #Political, #Policewomen, #Policewomen - New York (State) - New York, #Dallas; Eve (Fictitious Character), #Police - Crimes Against
She took a deliberate sniff. “Pretty.”
“I don’t believe flowers are against the law, either.”
“No, but we’re racking up the odd notes, Rod. Like why there’s a palm plate on this door. Extra security on this room.”
“Mr. Ricker initially considered making it his office, then decided against it.”
“Uh-huh.” She stepped up to a narrow chest of drawers, began opening it. “And this looks brand, spanking new. Like it’s never been used. Like maybe it was just put in here. Don’t get much company?”
His smile hit a perfect middle between sour and smug. “We’re redecorating.”
“Yeah, I bet.” She gestured Peabody to the single closet while she stepped into the adjoining bath.
Compact, efficient, scrupulously clean. But she’d bet it had been used. Just as she’d bet the equipment once housed in the “guest room” had been transferred to another location very, very recently.
“Oh, hey, Rod? There’s this other odd note. The one where you told me you and Alex spent the night in—that would be the night Detective Coltraine was murdered—and Alex told me he went out.”
“I assumed Alex was in.”
“Don’t keep very good tabs on your boss for a PA, do you, Rod?”
He bristled; she enjoyed it. “I don’t
keep tabs
on Alex. We had dinner in, as I stated. I went upstairs about ten. I wasn’t aware, until he told me this afternoon, that he’d gone out that night. I believe it’s still legal in this country for a man to take a walk and have a beer.”
keep tabs
on Alex. We had dinner in, as I stated. I went upstairs about ten. I wasn’t aware, until he told me this afternoon, that he’d gone out that night. I believe it’s still legal in this country for a man to take a walk and have a beer.”
“Last I checked. So, how’d you get along with Detective Coltraine?”
“We got along very well, though I hadn’t seen her in about a year. I’m sorry for what happened to her and sorry it upsets Alex.”
“You didn’t see her when she came to see him a couple days ago?”
“No. Alex wanted to see her alone. I was up here.”
“You seem to spend a lot of time up here.” She sent him an overly cheerful smile. “Since you do, why don’t we take a look at your quarters, Rod?”
She went through the motions—as much for procedure as to needle the annoying PA—but knew there would be nothing to find. Alex was smart, he had experience, and he’d anticipated the search.
Once it was done, and they were outside, she conferred with Feeney. “Did you see the small bedroom off the big, second-floor parlor?”
“Yeah. Palm plate and voice code on the door. Unless he uses it to hold his sex slaves against their will, I’d say the equipment in there was moved out in the last day or two. And that equipment’s probably unregistered.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same. Except about the possible sex slaves.”
“Guys think about sex slaves more than women do. Probably.”
“I can only suppose. He’d have wiped anything on his equipment.”
“Unless he’s stupid, sure.” Feeney took out the bag of nuts in his pocket, rattled it. Offered it to Eve. “We’ll be able to tell if he wiped, maybe find the echoes.”
Because they were there, she took a couple of sugared almonds, crunched. “But if he had unregistered, he’d have kept anything incriminating on that.”
“Unless, again, stupid.”
“I guess it was too much to hope we’d find Coltraine’s ring tucked into a box in his sock drawer.”
“Worth a shot. Guy’s got the shady on him.” Feeney jutted a chin toward the building. “Slicked over more than his old man, but he’s got the shady on him.”
“Yeah, he does. But shady’s a leap away from cop killer. I’m going to work from home. You get anything, I want to hear about it.”
“Back at you. I didn’t know the lady, but she was a badge. And there’s Morris. You got EDD, and me, round the clock until we put this one away.”
She walked over to Peabody, who was in a huddle with her cohab, McNab, and his EDD pal, Callendar.
McNab stood jingling whatever would jingle in two of the pockets of his maxicargo fire-red pants. His blond hair was braided back from his thin, pretty face to hang down the back of his lightweight daffodil-yellow jacket. Beside him, Callendar was a busty explosion of color in a zigzag-patterned T-shirt, floppy overshirt, and glossy pants.
“Pizza hits all the notes.” Callendar chomped on gum so her jaw movements sent the huge triangles dangling from her ears jumping. “You buy.”
“I’m on for pizza, but the tab’s a grab.” McNab held out a fist, and Eve’s eyes narrowed as the two e-detectives went through the first round of Rock Paper Scissors.
“Gee, I’m sorry to interrupt playtime, but there’s this pesky chore of hunting down a cop killer.”
“We’re on it.” McNab turned earnest green eyes to hers. “We’re going to hunker down in the pen. We’re just settling on the fuel and the buy.”
“I cleared the night for it, Lieutenant,” Callendar told her. “But you gotta prime the pump. We took eight desk units, twelve wall, and sixteen portables out of those digs. Anything on there bouncing to Detective Coltraine, we’re going to find it.”
But pumps had to be primed. Eve dug into her own pockets. “Pizza’s on me. Peabody, I’m working from home. You can coordinate the search-and-seizure results, log it all in. Cross all the t’s. After that, choose where you’re most useful.”
“Got that. One thing.” She quick-stepped with Eve toward Eve’s vehicle. “If Ricker and company hauled equipment or anything out of there, it should be on the building’s security discs. So we should—”
“I’ve got them. I’m going to scan them at home.”
“Oh.” Peabody’s face registered mild disappointment. “I guess I should’ve figured you’d think of it. I just didn’t want to say anything about it while we were inside, and on record.”
“It’s good you thought of it.”
“Well. Oh, and one more thing. If you think we should reschedule Louise’s bridal shower and all, I can take care of it.”
“Crap.” Eve pushed a hand through her hair. “I forgot about it.” Again. “No, just leave it. We’ll see. If you talk to Nadine about that, and she uses it to try to pump you—”
“The investigation is active and ongoing. We’re pursuing all leads. Blah, blah.”
“Okay then.” Eve climbed into her car.
She made the tail within three blocks. In fact, it was so sloppy a shadow, she felt insulted.
Late-model, nondescript black sedan. Tinted windows. New York plates. She noted the plate numbers, turned to add a few blocks to her drive home. The sedan made the turn, huddled back two car lengths. She considered pulling over, seeing if her tail would follow suit to drive past, then scramble to double back.
Instead, she allowed herself to be caught at the next light while the river of pedestrians flowed in front of her. Why would Ricker hire such a shitty tail? she wondered. A man with his connections, his reach ought to be able to put someone with more skill, and more technology on her.
A homer on her car—or at the least a three-point tail that could mix it up. In this traffic, she might’ve missed it. Stupid, amateur move, she decided. Maybe she’d drive around awhile, waste their time, see if they’d swing up close enough so she could use her car to barricade then roust them.
Meanwhile, she might as well find out who owned the sedan.
She engaged her dash comp. “Run vehicle registration, New York. Eight, six, three, Zulu, Bravo, Echo.”
Acknowledged. Working . . .
When the light turned, she eased across the crosswalk, flicked a glance in the rearview.
She caught the van out of the corner of her eye. Pinned by cross traffic, she had nowhere to turn. As it barrelled down on her, she punched the accelerator and hit vertical.
“Come on, you piece of shit. Come
on.
” For an instant, she thought she might make it, but the speeding van caught her sluggishly-lifting rear wheels. The impact slapped her back in the seat. As the car spun, executed a clumsy nosedive toward Madison Avenue, it filled with safety gel.
on.
” For an instant, she thought she might make it, but the speeding van caught her sluggishly-lifting rear wheels. The impact slapped her back in the seat. As the car spun, executed a clumsy nosedive toward Madison Avenue, it filled with safety gel.
She thought:
Fuck.
And crashed.
Fuck.
And crashed.
She heard it—sounds muffled by the gel—the smash, crunch, screech. She went into another sloping three-sixty as the car that had been directly behind her at the light slammed her front fender. Or more accurately, she slammed it. Despite the gel, she felt the jolt slap through her whole body.
Dizzy, disoriented, she shoved out of the car, fumbled for her weapon. People thronged around her, with everyone talking at once through the bells gonging in her head.
“Get back, stay back. I’m a cop.” She rushed toward the wrecked van. Her quick scan showed her the sedan, streaming sedately up Madison.
Gone, baby. Gone.
Blood in her eye, literally and figuratively, she approached the door of the van, leading with her weapon. And found the cab empty.
“They ran!” One of the eager witnesses shouted it at her. “Two men. I saw them run that way.” The witness pointed east, toward Park.
“I think one was a woman,” another witness weighed in. “God, they just
rammed
you, then took off.”
rammed
you, then took off.”
“They were white guys.”
“One was Hispanic.”
“They had dark hair.”
“One was blond.”
Eve carved through the helpful crowd, yanked open the rear doors. In disgust, she studied the surveillance equipment.
The tail hadn’t been stupid and sloppy. She had.
She yanked out her communicator. “Dallas, Lieutenant Eve, officer-involved vehicular, Madison and . . . Seventy-fourth. Require assistance.” She elbowed her way back to the car that had hit her after she’d crashed. A woman sat inside, blinking.
“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you injured?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think.” With glassy eyes and pinprick pupils, the woman stared at her. “What happened?”
“Require medical assistance for civilian,” she added, then turned to look at her crunched, mangled vehicle.
“Goddamn it,” she muttered. “Requisitions is going to take out a contract on me.”
T
he information he’d gotten claimed she wasn’t hurt. But Roarke took no one’s word when it came to his wife—not even hers. Of course, he thought, with a simmering anger he used to cover fear, she hadn’t been the one to contact him. Nor did she answer on her pocket ’link, as he’d been trying it since he’d started across town.
he information he’d gotten claimed she wasn’t hurt. But Roarke took no one’s word when it came to his wife—not even hers. Of course, he thought, with a simmering anger he used to cover fear, she hadn’t been the one to contact him. Nor did she answer on her pocket ’link, as he’d been trying it since he’d started across town.
When he reached the barricade, he simply left his car where it was. They could bloody well tow it, he thought. And bill him.
He covered the rest of the ground on foot, moving fast.
He saw the wreck first—the accordion pleats of metal, the shattered glass, bitten chunks of fiberglass.
Fear rolled over the anger like lava.
Then he saw her, on her feet. Standing. Whole. And arguing, by the look of it, with one of the medical technicians in front of an ambulance.
“I’m not hurt. I don’t need to be examined, and I’m sure as hell not getting in that bus. The safety gel discharged. Can you
see
how much I’m wearing? How’s the civilian? How’s the woman?”
see
how much I’m wearing? How’s the civilian? How’s the woman?”
“Shaken up is all,” the MT told her. “But we’re taking her in, getting her looked over. You ought to come in. Your eyes look shocky to me.”
“My eyes are
not
shocky. My eyes are pissed. Now go away and . . .” She trailed off when she spotted Roarke, and he noted her eyes went from pissed to baffled.
not
shocky. My eyes are pissed. Now go away and . . .” She trailed off when she spotted Roarke, and he noted her eyes went from pissed to baffled.
He walked straight to her, controlled the terrible urge to simply sweep her up and away. He skimmed his finger beside the shallow cut, and the blueing around it that marred her forehead.
“Is this the worst of it then?” he asked her.
“Yeah. How did you—”
“I’ll see to her,” he told the MT. “If she needs to go in for treatment or exam, I’ll see to that.”
“Yeah? How?”
“She’s my wife.”
“Yeah?” the MT repeated. “Good luck, buddy.”
“Did you have to—”
“Yes. My car’s behind the barricade. Let’s go.”
“I can’t leave the scene yet. I haven’t cleared everything, and I need to make sure the responding officers have—”
He rounded on her, slowly, very slowly. “Could you leave the scene if you were unconscious and being transported to the nearest hospital or health center?”
The narrowed glare she aimed at him didn’t penetrate. “Let’s go,” he repeated.
“A minute. Officer Laney, I appreciate your prompt response.”
“Wish it could’ve been sooner, Lieutenant, and we’d busted the assholes.” Laney, a hawk-eyed black female, glowered at the van currently being loaded on a flatbed. “The sweepers’ll go over every inch of it, and the sedan, too. You ought to go with the MTs, sir. You took a hell of a ride.”
“I’m just going to go home. Thanks.” She turned back to Roarke, walked with him. “I’m not hurt.”
“Most people who aren’t hurt aren’t bleeding.”
“I banged my head, that’s all. Jeez, if I’d known you were driving home this way and would see that, I’d have tagged you first.” She glanced back, winced at the unholy mess in the intersection. “It looks worse than it is. Personal injurywise. Let me get them to clear us through here.”
She walked to one of the uniforms at the barricade, had a short conversation. When she turned back, saw Roarke opening the door of his rich-guy’s car for her, she winced again.
“Don’t, ah, pet or pat me or anything until we’re out of here. It makes me look weenie.”
“Far be it from me.” He got behind the wheel, threaded through the opening the uniform made for him. He headed up Madison to circle the great park, and head home.
“What happened?”
“I was an idiot. Fell for it. Stupid. Goddamn it.”
“Other than that, what happened?”
“Did a search and seize on Ricker’s place, which he was expecting. Still, it had to be done. I split off after, to head home, work from there. Spotted a tail. I should’ve
known.
It was sloppy, obvious, and I got smug. Had my attention on the tail, and verifying the registration, start to cross at the light, and wham.”
known.
It was sloppy, obvious, and I got smug. Had my attention on the tail, and verifying the registration, start to cross at the light, and wham.”
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