Authors: Suzanne Brockmann
And killing them would confuse the issue and keep Alyssa from realizing, too soon, who he was, because the Dentist had only slaughtered women.
True, he’d killed that man in the mall parking lot, and of course
his father—but they hadn’t connected those deaths to him. Not yet, anyway. And yes, there was also that one horrible man, years ago, with Amanda, but he’d hidden him well and they hadn’t found him.
Right now though, he wanted to surprise Alyssa, and the bodies of these two—gutted and left in Maria’s office—would help him to do just that.
It was a good idea—of that he was certain.
But he was also just as certain that he couldn’t kill them both and be sure he would survive.
Wait. He needed to wait
.
“In this lifetime, Chick,” the tall one said impatiently as the really young shorter one tried a second key.
At last the door opened and the light went on, stabbing into his brain, but he didn’t look away.
They wouldn’t be in there long. He’d left nothing for them that would lead back to him. He’d even found the tooth he’d dropped some days ago. It had cut its way free from his pocket, dropping onto the floor from the leg of his pants—a ghost from the past biting him and making this adventure even more lively and nerve jangling, since he couldn’t go searching the floor for it with Jenn sitting at her desk. And he hadn’t had time in the early morning hours when he’d left his gift in the drawer. As it was, he’d almost been seen.
But he’d found it tonight and it was back in his pocket, where it belonged.
He’d cleared his listening devices out of Maria and Savannah’s apartments, too—taking a moment to stand there, breathing in Alyssa’s sweet scent. She hadn’t been there long, but it was enough for him to feel her presence.
The tall one came back out into the hallway, looking at his cell phone. “Here we go,” he said. “Now I’ve got bars. Wait—bar, singular. What is with this city? I get better reception in frakking Mumbai. Let’s see if it’ll let me dial out…” He held the phone to his ear.
“Yes! Jackpot! Yeah, hi, Mr. um, Cassidy … Yeah, it’s Zanella. Nope, nothing here, either.” He paused, listening. “Yes, sir, we’ll stop there on our way back to the …”
He waited, holding his breath, hoping to learn where they’d all gone, but the tall man—Zanella—didn’t finish his sentence. But he did provide other information.
“If you’re right, and this homeless guy’s our man, he’s either in St. Sebastian’s or the drunk tank, so he couldn’t have cleared the place. Of course, if he
is
our man, he’s not likely to have access to high-tech equipment—No, no, I know it’s not a done deal. We were thorough. Yup. Okay. Roger that. I mean, shit, I
didn’t
mean … I’m just going to hang up now.” He closed his phone. “Holy Jesus.
Roger that
. Things
not
to say to your gay boss.”
“You need to lighten up,” the shorter man—Chick, he was called—said from inside the office. “He’s a nice guy. Just treat him the same way you treat everyone. With massive disrespect.”
“Ha-ha, you’re so fucking funny. What I
need
, right now, is to tinkle.” Zanella stepped inside and returned almost immediately with the key to the bathroom. He vanished into the darkness down the hall.
And he knew that this was what he’d been waiting for. He could do this. While they were separated. Kill the shorter one, put on his jacket, and wait for the tall one to return.
He was already euphoric from the news that they thought
their man
was a street person—probably the very one who lived in the basement of a nearby building. That was brilliant, perfect, tremendously good news. He wished he could listen in further, to find out more. What were they planning? Were they still interviewing the staff tomorrow? Although, he’d find that out, soon enough …
He heard the bathroom door slam shut down the hall, and he knew he didn’t have much time if he was going to do this. He pushed the door open a crack, but then stopped.
Because he realized that if he
didn’t
kill them now, he could follow them. They would lead him back to wherever Alyssa had gone.
And he wanted to know where Alyssa had gone more than he wanted to feel the spray of blood in his face, more than he wanted to confuse and surprise.
He wanted Alyssa.
Alyssssa …
“Hey, how was the end of the show?” The shorter one came out of the office, carrying the bag they’d brought in, and setting it on the floor. He laughed as he spoke into his cell phone. “Yeah, I wish. I’ve heard the soundtrack and … Ah, I love that song—was it great?” He turned off the office light and shut the door, searching the ring for the right key. “No, baby, I’m glad. I just wish … No, shit’s kinda hit the fan here, so …” He laughed again, as he put the key into the lock and just let it hang there. “Oh, you’re not, are you? Ya
think?
No, no, it’s better if you don’t. I mean, I’m okay with it, of course I am.” He got quiet. “No,” he said. “No, no, I just don’t want it to be hard for
you …”
He exhaled. “Yeah, great, dick joke, thanks. I’m being serious here, and you’re …” He drew in his breath. “Yes, that does sound
… really
nice. All right, all right, look. It’s the Hilton on Fifty-third and Sixth Avenue. Yeah, yeah, West Fifty-third. That one. If you really want to get a room, I should be able to get away for at least an hour, maybe longer. …”
And there it was. He didn’t need to follow them. He could kill this one right now.
He pushed the supply closet door open a little bit more, but the other one, Zanella, was already coming back down the hall, singing.
“Every night in my dreams I see you, I feel you …
And why can’t I get this song out of my head? Oh, I remember.” He kept singing, putting his own words to the familiar tune to that blockbuster movie, “I was picturing Danny Gillman singing this song, as he shagged Jennilyn LeMay. …”
“I gotta go,” the one named Chick said into his phone as Zanella put the bathroom key back in the office, locking the door behind him, and handing over the key ring. “I’ll see you later.” He smiled, then lowered his voice. “Love you, too.”
“Whoa.
That
sounds pretty serious, T-Man,” Zanella said, as Chick pocketed his phone and the keys and zipped up his jacket.
“It is,” the shorter man admitted. “It’s, um, been, yeah, pretty serious for… a while now, actually.”
“That’s great,” Zanella said. “I’m … really happy for you, man.”
The SEAL was standing right in front of the storage room door. He was going to turn, and he’d see that the door was open—just a crack, but it
was
open—when it hadn’t been open before.
Sometimes destiny happened, for reasons that he couldn’t question.
He’d kill them both. He had to, so he would.
If it was meant to be …
He readied his Taser and braced himself, silently shifting his feet, knowing that he couldn’t wait for them to pull their weapons free from their jackets, knowing that he had to move first, to surprise them.
But then Zanella said, “So when are you going to bring him by? Let us meet him. Make sure he’s good enough for our little Tony.”
He?
“I … don’t think I’m ready for that. Not this trip. Maybe back in California. He lives in L.A., so …”
That was definitely a
he
that they were talking about. The shorter one had said
Love you, too
to a
he
.
His surprise and disgust floored him, and he lost his advantage, lost his edge, lost his opportunity to strike first.
But they didn’t notice the door, didn’t find him, didn’t kill him.
They just moved off down the hall, as Zanella hefted the bag, saying, “Maybe we could have a cookout after we get back from this godforsaken land of ice.”
“Yeah,” the homosexual said, “maybe.”
“No pressure. Let’s get to that drugstore—what’s it called, Duane Reade?” Zanella’s voice echoed down the hall as they went to the elevators. “What the fuck kind of a name for a drugstore is Duane Reade, anyway?”
Jenn was exhausted by the time she closed the bedroom door behind her. And yet she knew Maria was infinitely curious, and probably had a million questions for her, starting with
Dan Gillman—oh, my God—seriously?!?
They’d both survived their interviews with FBI agent Jules Cassidy, who was adorable and married to movie and TV star Robin Chadwick, which was pretty unreal.
Robin had come from Boston to New York with his husband to babysit for little Ash. Which was also unreal. Jenn wondered who would come in to do Alyssa and Sam’s laundry later in the week—maybe Colin Firth? And perhaps Susan Sarandon would be by in the morning, to serve them all some breakfast.
And okay, Robin had explained that he and Jules had been close friends with the Troubleshooters team leader and her husband for years. They were, in fact, not merely Ash’s godparents, but, should anything happen to Alyssa and Sam, Robin and Jules would be given full legal custody of the child.
Which was a real possibility, considering the line of work Alyssa and Sam were in.
So considering that: yes, that was one very solid, very tight friendship the four of them had going on.
“Are you all right?” Maria asked, as Jenn unzipped her overnight bag and pulled out her pajamas.
Jenn shook her head. “I just… I still can’t believe Maggie’s really dead.” She turned to face Maria. “Everyone’s all solicitous and
sorry for your loss
, but I didn’t know her very well. I think I had
lunch with her three times. Total. And she always brought along someone who ended up donating big money to the campaign, so we never really talked about anything personal. Did you have any idea at all that she was a recovering alcoholic?”
“None,” Maria admitted. “I just remember that her lips kind of scared me, and she always had that little ugly dog with her.”
“Do you really think that homeless guy killed her? You know the one, right? With the wild hair and … He just… He didn’t seem …”
“People are crazy,” Maria said. “And people
get
crazy from seeing and doing terrible things. God only knows what he lived through in Vietnam.” Alyssa and Sam both had been pretty certain he was a veteran of that war, from Jenn’s description of some of the ribbons and medals he’d kept in his sock. “And the system clearly isn’t set up to provide him with the care he needs, so …”
Jenn knew this was a sore point for Maria, whose younger brother Frank had deployed to Iraq in 2004, and hadn’t been quite right since he’d come home. It had been months since he’d last left his room in their parents’ house in Glen Cove.
And look at Dan—a Navy SEAL—highly trained, highly skilled. A professional warrior. And yet still capable of being badly damaged by the relentless violence of life in a war zone.
One of Maria’s goals—set out early in her campaign—was to help change the system. She wanted to make sure that all servicemen and women, even those whose injuries were not apparent, got the long-term, expert care that they deserved.
“Can I ask you something a little … unusual?” Maria said. She was sitting on her bed the way they used to sit in high school when they had a sleepover. Legs crossed, pillow on her lap.
Despite sitting that way, and even with her hair neatly braided so it wouldn’t tangle in her sleep, Maria looked like the grown-up that she was.
Although, come to think of it, she’d always come across as being
mature and full grown. It was Jenn who was still being carded when she was long past twenty-five.
She sat on the other bed and cut to the chase. “Is your question about Dan?”
“What?” Maria said. “Who? Oh. No, but go, Jenn. He’s pretty cute, I mean, as long as you know what you’re doing. …”
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Jenn admitted, flopping back on the bed. “At all.”
“You’ll figure it out,” Maria told her. “You always do. I have faith in you.”
“It’s not serious,” Jenn said, saying the words aloud for the first time. Testing them out. “It’s short-term. We’ve already agreed not to try to do the long-distance thing. Which means it’s just going to end in two weeks when he goes back overseas.”
And okay. She hadn’t quite sounded convinced, even to her own ears. And the words definitely triggered a sinking feeling in her stomach, a sense of dread. It came from that last word she’d uttered—overseas. Despite the relationship’s lack of seriousness, she was definitely daunted at the idea of Dan leaving to go back to the war.
And then, of course, there was the possibility that the awful sinking feeling was triggered by the idea of his leaving, period.
Countered by the very non-sinking feeling she’d gotten when Dan had met her eyes from across the room during tonight’s meeting.
They’d all gathered in the living room, where Jules, who was going to continue working closely with Alyssa, had admitted that they were all still pretty deeply in the clueless zone. They didn’t know who had killed Maggie, although they had a list of people they were going to be checking out, including the homeless man who’d had Alyssa’s picture.
They didn’t know
why
Maggie was killed, either, but they weren’t ruling out that the motive could be political. It was possible
that the murderer had taken to heart some lunatic fringer’s diatribes of hate, ignorance, and fear, and had chosen Maria as his target, with Maggie as collateral damage.
Jules and Alyssa expected some further contact from the killer. He’d caught their attention, but he hadn’t yet delivered his real message. That, they both believed, was yet to come.
Tomorrow, their priority was to interview Maria’s interns and volunteers, and to install high-tech security systems in both Maria’s and Jenn’s apartments, and in the office, too. The goal being to get them back to work, and back to living their lives, as quickly as possible. Although neither Jenn nor Maria should plan on going anywhere without a bodyguard any time soon.
Despite that, the consensus was, absolutely, to get them back to sleeping in their own beds by tomorrow night.
And yes, that was when Dan had looked at Jenn.
And the world had tilted, because, God … She didn’t know him all that well, but she knew exactly what he was thinking from that look he’d given her.