Something he could definitely appreciate.
Taylor delicately cleared her throat, making him jerk his gaze upward. Her lips twitched as she raised one of her eyebrows.
He shrugged unapologetically and reached for her hand, linking his fingers through hers. He didn’t care that she’d caught him checking her out. Soon he planned to check out every inch of her naked body—and actually appreciate it while she wasn’t passed out and injured.
“The building’s mostly empty,” Escobar said, his voice making both of them divert their attention to the front.
Roman bent down and looked through the windshield at the partially lit building they were approaching. Ten stories, Taylor had told him. “What’s the security like?”
“We’re on virtual lockdown, all the exits secured. All keycards have been deactivated for the night. If there’s an emergency anyone can call me and gain access, but with everything going on, I didn’t want anyone coming in late or Neal somehow gaining access through someone else’s card.”
Taylor straightened next to Roman, her body pulling taut. “Why would he want access to the building?”
Escobar shrugged and shot them a glance in the rearview mirror as he pulled up to a closed gate for the parking garage. “Any number of reasons. There are two uniformed police officers in the building doing a methodical search looking for any evidence of the weapon used to…the weapon used. When Neal was tested for GSR he had some on his clothing, but there wasn’t the spray of blowback one would associate with recently firing a weapon. Which tells me he changed clothes and probably took a shower. Unless he managed to get the evidence out of the building before the cops showed up—and the timeline of Hugh’s death and the entry/exit logs from our system don’t allow for it—then he had to have stashed the clothes somewhere inside.”
“But he’s guilty, the cops seemed pretty sure of that.” A tremor threaded through Taylor’s voice, making Roman want to wring Neal Lynch’s neck.
“Yeah, there’s no doubt he is.” Escobar rolled down his window and punched a code into the keypad before the gate raised.
On instinct, Roman glanced behind them again. He’d been scanning their surroundings since they’d left the PD. They still had an escort behind them, with three Powers Group Security guys, but Roman didn’t know them and he didn’t trust anyone where Taylor’s safety was concerned. Except maybe Escobar. From what he’d seen of the guy, he liked him. More importantly, the man moved like he was trained. And the local PD trusted him. Roman planned to check him out more thoroughly, but his internal alarm wasn’t going off around this guy and that counted for a hell of a lot. He always trusted his instinct.
“But,” the man continued as he steered into the garage, “I wouldn’t put it past that bastard to try anything for his defense. With your testimony, if it even goes to trial, and the evidence, it’s pretty much a closed case, but they don’t want to give him any room for a defense. If the weapon and his clothes are found, I doubt it’ll even go to trial. It wouldn’t make sense for him when he could take a deal.”
“A deal?” Now she just sounded pissed.
Escobar snorted. “Yeah, a deal as in pleading down to a hundred years over a couple hundred. Once he’s caught he won’t see the outside of a prison again. Hugh had way too many powerful friends and Neal is going to burn.”
“Good. Hey, where did Hugh’s SUV come from?” Taylor asked suddenly before her eyes went wide.
Roman stiffened next to her. He knew she’d taken the SUV but hadn’t told the cops she’d ditched it. She’d more or less avoided that topic and they’d been more concerned with the shooting and finding Neal than anything else. Arresting him was their top priority now.
Escobar snorted. “I know Hugh disabled all his GPS locators but I’ve got trackers on all company vehicles. He didn’t like it, but he didn’t have much choice because part of my job is to keep all executives safe. Man, I’m going to miss him,” the head of security muttered before pulling into an empty parking space.
“Me too,” Taylor said quietly, her fingers tightening in Roman’s. “When’s the…funeral? I didn’t want to ask at the police station.”
“Saturday. And I’ve taken care of everything. You’ll need to talk to his attorney about some stuff he left you and there will be a shitload of things to deal with here, but I figured the least I could do was plan his funeral. He had pretty specific instructions.” He turned off the engine and sat there for a moment. “How’d you get out of the city anyway?”