“Oh, for God's sake.”
“No, for Judd Morgan's sake.” He added, “That's what I'm trying to tell you. I always look out for number one.”
“How surprising.”
“Sorry, we all can't be heroes who run into burning buildings.”
“I'd never make that mistake.”
“You already did.”
A smoke-filled stairwell. His hand grasping her wrist. Safety.
“You took me by surprise.”
“Because you want to believe in heroes.”
“They exist. I've known quite a few.”
“Like your father.”
“Like my father.” She stared him in the eye. “And I'm not going to forgive you for dressing up and pretending you're anything like him.”
“I didn't think you would. I knew it would probably be a cardinal sin in your eyes.” He shrugged. “But there are sins and then there are sins. I've learned to view transgressions in perspective.” He turned on the dishwasher. “For instance, it would be a really great sin to permit a man of my brilliance and talent to be taken down by those lowlifes who blew up Arapahoe Dam. I have to make sure such sacrilege doesn't happen.”
“No matter who else gets hurt.”
“Oh, I didn't say that.” He smiled. “Never make assumptions, Alex. It's not a black-and-white world.” He turned away. “Now, if you're sure you don't want anything else from me, I believe I'll go to the study and do a little work.”
“Planning your next heist?”
“Could be. Or maybe I'm going to think about domino effects.”
“Listen to me.” Her voice vibrated with urgency. “I have to get out of here. Those men killed innocent people. I can't let them walk away. I won't let them walk away. I saw them. I may be the only person who can make sure they're punished.”
“It's not your responsibility. Let the police and the FBI handle it.”
“It is my responsibility. When something like that disaster happens, it's everyone's responsibility. You can't just stand on the sidelines and hope someone else—” She stopped and wearily shook her head. “Or maybe you can. You're so damn cold. I can see you standing in the background, afraid to come any closer because something might touch you.”
“Do you want me to deny it? I'm very comfortable on the outside. It's where I intend to stay.” He turned away. “All that emotion must have exhausted you. I'd suggest you go to your room and get some sleep. You probably still feel a little groggy from that sedative.”
“Wait.” She moistened her lips. “What are the chances of you changing your mind about your deal with Logan?”
He thought about it. “Probably not very high. But the possibility does exist.”
She watched in helpless frustration as he disappeared through a doorway opening off the living room.
No, not helpless. She would not be helpless.
She crossed the kitchen and opened the cutlery drawer.
There was a scrawled note lying in the empty drawer.
Sorry.
Damn him.
4
“Here's the tape. I got it right before the police team started their search.” Decker dropped the case on the desk in front of Powers. “Though I don't know how much good it will do. The camera only got a back shot of him going up the stairs, and that big-ass fireman's hat almost hid his face when he was carrying Graham out the second-floor exit.”
“It better do us a hell of a lot of good,” Powers said softly. “You screwed up. We lost Graham, and you left Lester's body for the FBI to find.”
“I wasn't supposed to be there,” Decker said defensively. “I did my job.”
“Then somebody undid it. Which is just as bad.” He picked up the tape. “I'll send this to Washington to have it examined. You'd better hope they can ID that fireman. He's the key to finding Graham.” He flipped open his phone. “I'm going to get a hell of a lot of heat from Betworth about this, and you can bet I'm not going to take it alone.”
Decker belligerently lifted his chin. “I'm not worried about Betworth.”
“No?” Powers dialed Betworth's number. “And what about Runne?” He nodded as he saw the change of expression on Decker's face. “Different story, isn't it? You're scared shitless of Runne.”
“I'm not scared. He's just . . . weird.”
“Well, Betworth might decide to turn him loose on you, so I wouldn't get too cocky.” Betworth answered the phone, and Powers deliberately made his tone cheerful. “Good news, we're on our way to finding Graham.”
Idiots!
Charles Betworth muttered a curse as he hung up the phone.
Arapahoe Dam had been a nightmare from the beginning. It had not accomplished its principal aim, and the cleanup was proving to be a complete debacle. Powers was supposed to be a competent professional, but Betworth had seen no sign of it during these last weeks. It was time he made the move that he'd wanted to avoid.