The FBI Thrillers Collection(261)

Of course he knew the answer to that. Marlin knew he’d have to have some leverage, something to make Sherlock do what he told her to do. And that would be? To walk the maze, to get to the center, where he’d kill her, to pay her back for scamming him, for shooting him, for beating him.

So he and his father would have taken the women to some warehouse nearby. But where? There were lots of likely places in Washington, D.C. He knew Sherlock would know that he’d realize what had happened. She had to have left him something, if she’d had the chance. He looked around the kitchen but didn’t see anything.

He was on the cell phone to the cops when he walked into the small bathroom off the downstairs hallway. He nearly gagged at the stench. He pulled open the linen drawers below the sink. Nothing. He pulled aside the shower curtain. There was Sherlock’s purse on the floor of the shower stall, open.

“Give me Lieutenant Jacobs, please. I imagine he’s gone home. What’s his phone number? Listen, this is Dillon Savich, FBI. We’ve got a real problem here and I need help fast.”

Savich was on the phone to Jacobs even as he was bending down to pick up Sherlock’s purse. It was a big black leather shoulder bag. He’d kidded her about carrying a full week’s change of clothes and running shoes in there.

“Is Lieutenant Jacobs there, please?”

He carefully pulled out each item. It was when he got to her small cosmetic bag that he went really slowly. He unzipped it just a little bit at a time, holding it upright.

“Is this you, Lewis? Savich here. I’ve got a huge problem. You know all about Marlin and Erasmus Jones? Well, they’re here in Washington and they’ve got two of my agents—Agent Sherlock and Agent Paisley. Hold just a second.” Slowly Savich turned the cosmetic bag inside out. There written in eyebrow pencil was: Calvert & Williams, wareh—.

Damn, she was good. “Lewis, she managed to leave me a message. There’s a warehouse at Calvert and Williams. Marlin and his dad have both Agent Sherlock and Agent Paisley. He’s going to make her go through a maze, Lewis, and Marlin will be at the center. He’ll kill her. Do a silent approach, all right? I’ll see you there in ten minutes.”

He couldn’t believe it. His Porsche wouldn’t start. He tried again, then raised the hood. Nothing obvious, not that he was a genius with cars. He cursed, then kicked the right front tire. Then he ran into the street. A motorist nearly ran him down, slammed down on his brakes, and weaved around him. Savich cursed, then stood there, right in the middle, waving his arms.

A taxi pulled up. A grinning black face peered out at him. “Well, if it isn’t the lucky man who’s going to marry that pretty little gal.”





35




THERE WAS no time. No time at all.

She didn’t want to die, didn’t want to lose her life to this crazy bastard who was grinning at her like the madman he was. No, he wasn’t mad, he knew exactly what he was doing, and he knew it was wrong. He enjoyed it. Remorse was alien to him. Being really human, in all its complexity and simplicity, was alien to him.

She looked at Hannah, who was standing with her back against one of Marlin’s props, her head down. At first Lacey thought she was numb with fear, but then she realized she wasn’t terrified senseless, which Marlin and Erasmus probably thought. No, it was an act. Hannah was getting her bearings, thinking, figuring odds.

Good. Let them think she was broken. Lacey called out, her voice filled with false concern she was sure Hannah would see right through, “Hannah, are you all right?”

“Yes, but for how long?” Hannah didn’t look at her, just kept breathing deeply, staring at the filthy wooden floor. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance that Savich will get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Shut up, both of you cunts!”

“Really nice language from your daddy, Marlin.”

“He can say whatever he wants, Marty. You know that. He’s a man.”

“Him? A man?” It was Hannah, her voice hoarse because Erasmus had choked her when she’d tried to get away from him. “He’s a worm, a cowardly worm who raised you to be a rabid murderer.”

Hannah didn’t even have time to ready herself before Erasmus hit her hard on the head with the butt of Lacey’s SIG. Lacey knew she’d lost it. Otherwise she would have forced herself to be silent.

“I’ll enjoy cutting her throat,” Erasmus said, standing over an unconscious Hannah. She was drawn up in the fetal position. There was a trickle of blood from her nose.

“So you will kill her,” Lacey said, and smiled at Marlin. “I’m not going into your maze. There’s no reason to. She isn’t leverage. You’re going to kill her too. You heard your sweet daddy.”